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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months

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All Things End

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: I mean none specifically it's just a generally minorly sad fic lol

Genre: angst & kinda fluff

Summary: Finding out your boyfriend's secret drastically changes the dynamic of your relationship; "And all things end // All that we intend is scrawled in sand // Or slips right through our hands" - Hozier

***

The first time you met Steven was coincidence, a happenstance, courtesy of one of your friends- kind of. They share an apartment building and after visiting her you ran into the anxious history buff in the elevator, or he ran into you. You were already in the elevator, your friend Macy lives on the floor above his, and when it opened for him to get on he walked in without looking up from the papers in his hand and crashed right into you because of course you didn't react quick enough when he came careening in. His papers scattered and he jumped back so far a cat would be jealous.

"Going down?" You asked him lightheartedly, holding the door open button for him.

"Oh bullocks! I- I'm so sorry, I'll take the next one."

"Nonsense, half your papers are in here. Plus it's just me in the elevator. Afraid I'll bite?"

"No!" He shook his head so frantically you'd thought it might fly off.

"Well then get in. We can ride down together and you can pick up whatever it is that had you too enraptured to look up."

"I'm sorry. Again I- I hadn't meant to-" Steven had scrambled to grab his papers as the elevator door closed.

"Hey I get it. When the reading is good it can really take you to another world. No hard feelings." You chuckled. He offered an awkward half laugh in response before silence fell over you.

"Are you new here?" He asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Are you new? In the apartment building, I mean. I don't mean to pry I've just never seen you around before is all."

"Right well that's probably because I don't live here actually, I'm just visiting a friend. She lives above you."

"Oh." He frowned and you couldn't help but tease him a bit at the way he deflated.

"Why? Were you hoping to see me more often?" You winked.

"No!" He'd almost sounded indignant when he answered and then his eyes widened as if he realized what he said only after the fact. "Not- not that I'm opposed to seeing you more often it's just that well- we just met. I have no idea who you are so I can't really say I'm hoping for anything yet. A-again it's not that I'm particularly opposed to seeing you again or anything." He was rambling. You thought it was cute.

"Shame. I'd certainly be happy to catch a glimpse of you next time I'm around." You winked at him as the elevator finally reached the lobby of the building. He'd been too stunned to respond as you got out of the lift. "See you soon 7th floor." You'd tossed over your shoulder as a goodbye and left him to his own devices.

It would be a while before you saw him again, a month or so before you happened to catch him again. This time on your way up. He's coming out of the elevator as you're waiting for it.

"Ah, you're paying attention this time!" You joke.

"Oh! It's you again." He blinks at you. The two of you swap places, him getting out of the elevator while you get in it. You press the button for your friend's floor.

"Yes. Hi, mister 7th floor. Bye, mister 7th floor." You smile as the doors close. When you reach your friend's apartment you can't help but ask her about him.

"What do you know about the other people in your building?" You ask her.

"Ask whatever question you actually want an answer to." Macy chuckles.

"There's a guy who lives on the floor below you. Curly brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes, about this tall I'm guessing but he hunches over, he's super anxious although that could just be me making him nervous." You rattle off descriptors.

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about no it's not you, he's always that nervous, at least every time I've seen him. I call him squirrely. I dunno much about him though, not even his name actually, he's quiet and minds his business, seems nice though. He's polite at least." Macy shrugs. "Why do you ask?" Her eyes narrow with a curious smirk on her lips.

"I've run into him a couple of times. He's- curious, so I was just gathering intel."

"Gathering intel? Stay away from him y/n you'll break the poor boy." She laughs.

"I'm not gonna break him!"

"Not on purpose but he's not the type you usually go for, I don't think he can handle you."

"Well, he's been holding up as well as he needs to so far." You say.

"Don't tell me you've already taken a liking to him."

"I dunno if I'd go that far yet we've only spoken twice but he is cute." You shrug.

"I mean- try if you must babes." She muses.

And try you did. Eventually. It was slow going before you even decided to head down that road. You ran into him a few more times first with a teasing line or two each time and ultimately after a series of 'see you around 7th floor's he gave you his name and so you asked him to dinner.

Your first date had been expectedly awkward. Steven was so nervous he rambled through most of your meal which, from anyone else would seem so unattractively self-obsessed you'd have blocked them before you even left the restaurant, but from Steven, it was somehow so charming to see him so animated. Maybe because you know it's a nerves thing and not indifference to subjects other than his own interests.

Several dates later Steven, to your surprise, asks you to be his girlfriend. You're still not sure where the confidence to initiate that next step came from, you always thought you'd be the one asking him to go steady if it got that far, which it did but he made the move. It was a bit rushed and awkward in the way Steven usually is but it worked for him.

"Y/n." He'd been walking you home from a date and stopped you at your apartment building before you could go inside.

"Yes, Steven?"

"We've been seeing each other for some time now and well I've really had fun getting to know you and all so I was wondering, I thought that perhaps at this point you'd consider making it official. With me. I mean only if you'd like to it's not necessary. What we've got going on is good too. I'm okay with-"

"Steven you're rambling." You'd had to stop yourself from giggling at his frantic sentences avoiding your eyes.

"Right. I'm just trying to ask... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to." You'd smiled at him and kissed him faster than he could process. He was easy to fall in love with. Charming even through his perpetual awkwardness, caring, funny, and one of the smartest people you know. Everything felt, right when it came to him. You didn't have to question things with him. He made things easy, so easy it was strange to even consider that things would go wrong.

When you woke up in his bed this morning and realized he wasn't beside you, it was more than a little strange. First of all, you know he doesn't work today, it was his selling point in turning your date last night into a sleepover. There's no note and the stillness of his apartment makes it obvious he's not in the bathroom or in the kitchen or anywhere. It's still early too. You turn over possibilities in your head as you shuffle to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Just as you complete those tasks and exit the bathroom having put on your moisturizer, you hear the door to the apartment unlock and swing open.

"You're back." You say.

"Yeah hey." The word sounds- wrong. As though, despite your eyes recognizing the man before you, your ears are hearing a stranger's voice.

"Steven?" You frown and he freezes immediately. It's as if he didn't even realize it was you he spoke to. There's a pause, it's only a moment or two but it feels so tense it might as well have lasted several minutes.

"Hello, love, I didn't know you'd still be here." He smiles awkwardly. Something still sounds off about his voice, the accent feels forced, and his tone is awkward in a way that even for Steven is out of place.

"You didn't know I'd still be here? That's- not exactly the greeting I expected." You scoff, crossing your arms. "Where did you go before 9 A.M. on a Saturday? And what is going on with your voice?" You ask. He's still again. It's like you can see a loading screen on his face before he speaks.

"I- uh well," his head tilts suddenly and he clears his throat. "I've been feeling a bit of an itch in my throat and wanted to slip out for some medication, perhaps surprise you by making breakfast even but it appears I didn't return quick enough. I'm sorry, and good morning by the way my darling." Steven's voice sounds better when he speaks again and he walks over to you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"You didn't mention an itch yesterday." You point out.

"I didn't want it to ruin our evening. No need to worry love it's nothing some tea can't cure." He smiles.

"Well, then I'll make you some tea."

"Nonsense, you're-"

"I'm your girlfriend of almost a year, I think there's no problem with making you tea, even if this is." You chuckle.

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you my darling." He smiles at you. Like I said, he makes things so easy. It would be strange to think something was wrong here. Right? You don't want to press the issue but there's a gnawing in the back of your mind that something is not quite right.

A girlfriend?! You've kept a girlfriend from me all this time?! How the hell did you even pull that off? The voice in Steven's head is angrily yelling at him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"You had a wife once upon a time Marc. I think I'm allowed to date." Steven rolls his eyes, he's whispering though- so as to not alert you of the back and forth.

The problem isn't you dating Steven, the problem is I didn't know about her! And she doesn't know about us! What exactly is your plan huh to keep her in the dark forever?!

"You're overreacting."

You have to tell her or it'll ruin whatever thing you've got going on with her.

"No!" Steven shouts on accident, and you gasp at the sound of his voice.

"Steven honey are you okay?" You call looking at the bathroom door from the kitchen.

"Fine, love! Just- uh- dropped something!" He cringes at the not even remotely convincing lie.

Trust me Steven- it's the secrets and the lies that fucked things up with the wife you so conveniently mentioned earlier

"I'm not telling her Marc, none of this is her business. It's hardly mine even. Leave her out of it." With that order, Steven stomps out of the bathroom, taking a moment to calm himself before joining you in the kitchen.

You obviously didn't know it at the time, but that morning could probably be marked as the beginning of the end. After it, you started to notice weird things about Steven's behavior. Sometimes he'd leave suddenly with some half-assed excuse or you'll catch him talking quietly to himself and you can tell he's more tired these days but you don't bring it up. As strange as it all is you want to give Steven the benefit of the doubt. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

You: Hey Steven, I left something at your place, gonna stop by to get it later tonight.

At this point, you and Steven have keys to each other's apartments so you shoot him a text before you leave work about something you left at his that you need to pick up. You'd gone over to his yesterday after work at his behest and ended up forgetting a flash drive when you left. When you get to Steven's you knock on the door a couple of times but when he doesn't answer you let yourself in. You just need to grab your drive and you'll be out as soon as you find it anyway. The apartment is empty when you walk in and you quickly find the flash drive sitting on the floor by the couch where you'd tossed your workbag the night before upon arrival. When you bend down to reach for it though, you hear a sound from somewhere in the apartment. You startle, you know Steven's not home so you scramble for a makeshift weapon, you think someone is breaking in. You grab one of the many books Steven leaves littered around his apartment and crouch behind the couch, out of sight of the window where you heard the sound come from. The window slides open quickly and you hear the intruder scramble through it, into the apartment. You don't give yourself too much time to think about it as you hurl the book at the stranger who immediately lets out a curse when the hardcover collides with his body. You're not sure where though, you ducked back behind the couch too quickly to see it land.

"Who's there!? I'm not in the mood to kill you but I will if I have to. Just so you know." His voice rings out in the small studio. You grab another book from the coffee table as silently as you can and prepare to chuck it when he inevitably finds you behind the couch. You poke your head around the side of the furniture to try and get a look at him. He's in some sort of costume, a greyish-white full body outfit that looks like it's made of mummy wrappings, and a hooded cape. If not for the fact that he's currently breaking into your boyfriend's apartment you might think it's cool, but under the circumstances, it seems silly and wrong for the situation. Like going to a funeral in a wedding dress, or the beach in a snowsuit. So wrapped up in your internal mocking you miss the moment when he sees you until he says so.

"Shit it's you." He says and you pop up fully because that sounds like recognition though you can't see him you definitely don't recognize the voice.

"Do you know me?" You ask, book in hand still ready to throw it at him if necessary. He holds up his hands in front of him as you watch the suit dissipate before your eyes and reveal your boyfriend, but not. It's his face for sure, you'd know it anywhere, but you'd heard him talk and that was not your boyfriend's voice coming from that body. Not to mention his demeanor is different, even in his placating defensive stance you can tell the man in front of you carries himself differently.

"It's just me. Steven." He says carefully. The voice you hear is so distinctly American coming from your very British boyfriend's mouth.

"Bullshit. I don't know what you are but you are not my boyfriend. What have you done to him?" Your hold on the book in your hand tightens as you prepare yourself to chuck it at the imposter's head.

"Nothing! I swear." He says with a small shake of his head. "Dammit Steven, where are you?" He grits out so quietly you don't quite catch the words.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?! You snuck into his apartment and you sound nothing like him. I'm pretty sure this is how the bodysnatchers movie works. Except you're really shitty at pretending to be him."

"I'm not a body snatcher." He scoffs.

"Right I'll just take your word for it." You roll your eyes. There's silence for a couple of moments and then something changes in the man's face.

"Darling... put the book down we- need to talk." This time when he talks it sounds exactly like you know Steven to sound. This only further freaks you out at this point and you hurl the book at him, immediately picking up another. He dodges the book you threw, just barely "Y/n!" He takes a step towards you but you hold up a hand.

"Stay. There. I don't know what is going on but if you come any closer I will scream so loud this entire building will call the police."

"Love I would never hurt you."

"How can I possibly know that? Why did you just sound like a different person? What was that... costume? Who- what are you? Is everything you've told me a lie?!"

"No. I am Steven Grant, your boyfriend of almost a year. I work at a museum gift shop. This is my apartment. I have... something called dissociative identity disorder. It means... my mind is fractured in a way. So while I am Steven Grant your boyfriend there is another- consciousness that shares my body. His name is Marc Spector and the uh, costume is his. He does... work for an Egyptian deity when I'm not working or with you. You've met Marc before actually. Months ago when you spent the night and I told you I was sick."

"Work?" You ask.

"Some would probably label him a vigilante of sorts." Steven shrugs.

"Oh." You say.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" He frowns.

"You've been lying to me for months Steven be glad all I have to say right now is 'oh'." You say.

"I haven't-"

"A lie by omission is still a lie. If I hadn't come here to get my flash drive you would never have told me." You mutter. "I- I need to think. I'll call you." You say turning and leaving the apartment before he can say anything else.

The dissociative identity disorder part of all this you think you're processing very well. That's something you can make sense of, something you already know of and can research. This, part time vigilante business though you- struggle to wrap your head around. Steven doesn't hear from you for a week and it's rough. Marc tries to be there for him as best he can but the anxieties of you never speaking to him again are quite unbearable. Meanwhile you go to work. Like nothing is wrong, you go in every morning and leave every evening, trying to hold onto the things that aren't affected by the information constantly swirling in your subconscious, even when you aren't actively trying to come to terms with it. Steven is entitled to his privacy. He doesn't owe you every detail of everything that goes on in his life, it's not that. You've been together a year and- it hurts to think he still doesn't trust you. That's where your head is. Why else would he keep these things secret for so long?

Before another full week passes Steven has worried himself into an absolute state. Not eating or sleeping through the night he looks even more disheveled than usual. Marc can't stand it anymore and without Steven realizing it has marched the body to your apartment. At least if Steven saw your face maybe- maybe it would ease him slightly, even if you weren't ready to speak to him. The frantic knocking at your apartment door startles you as you sit on the couch. When you glance through the spyhole and see Steven with his messed up hair and tired, sad eyes your heart aches a tiny bit. You open the door with a confused frown on your face.

"What are you doing here Steven?" The words aren't harsh, in fact, they're almost quiet.

"I know you- said you'd call but I can't. I can't keep sitting with all the ways I screwed things up, wondering if you're ever going to speak to me, contemplating just how much you hate me, and- just tell me what to do and I'll do it. How do I fix things between us? I can't stand not speaking to you, not seeing you, not knowing if we'll ever be okay again." His words are frantic and the sentences almost feel jumbled with how fast he's speaking but you hear every desperation filled word.

"I don't hate you, Steven." You say flatly.

"How do I fix this? What do I do to make you love me again?" He asks.

"Do you trust me, Steven? At all?" You ask instead of offering an answer.

"More than anyone I've ever known." He answers so immediately it's almost enough for you to believe it.

"Yet, you keep these secrets that... say otherwise."

"I have no more secrets and- it wasn't just mine. Marc- he doesn't trust easily and he doesn't know you I couldn't- I didn't want to, expose him that way no matter how much I trust you it wasn't just about me. Please, you have to know I didn't do any of this to hurt you. I love you more than anything, you are my world. I can't lose you." Steven says and the look in his eyes makes you look away from him. You can't tell him what you're thinking really, that when people say something is forever either way it ends, so instead you say what will bring him comfort.

"You haven't lost me." You tell him. You don't think he has. You don't want this to be the end. So, you pull him into your apartment and his arms wrap around you so tightly you can hardly breathe. You let him hold you like that on your couch, as if he knows you'll slip through his hands if he lets go. You stay there listening to his heart beating in his chest, feeling the comfort of his arms, the heat of his body against yours, and you let yourself sink into those feelings. Eventually, his breathing evens out and you swear he's fallen asleep and in the quiet of your apartment, you murmur your thoughts out loud. "We didn't get this right but we did our best, and we will again." You say to yourself and you know, deep in your heart even if you can't tell him tonight. You know that all things end.

And just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans, when we begin again.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector angst #steven grant angst #moonknight angst

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amphibious-thing · 7 months

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Pink is for Boys

"Pink or Blue? Which is intended for boys and which for girls? This question comes from one of our readers this month, and the discussion may be of interest to others. There has been a great diversity of opinion on this subject, but the generally accepted rule is pink for the boy and blue for the girl. The reason is that pink, being a more decided and stronger color, is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl." ~ The Infants' Department, June 1918

[Left: The Blue Boy, oil on canvas, c. 1770, by Thomas Gainsborough.

Right: The Pink Boy, oil on canvas, c. 1782, by Thomas Gainsborough.]

Pink is for girls and blue is for boys. But it hasn't always been this way. Colour coding infants as a way of denoting gender was popular in 20th century America. The problem? Pink and blue? Which is for boys and which is for girls?

In 1927 TIME Magazine asked ten of the "leading stores that sell baby equipment" which colour was for which gender. Four stores responded pink for girls and blue for boys; Macy's (Manhattan), Franklin Simon (Manhattan), Wanamaker's (Philadelphia) and Bullock's (Los Angeles). Five stores responded pink for boys and blue for girls; Best's (Manhattan), Marshall Field's (Chicago), Filene's (Boston), Maison Blanche (New Orleans) and The White House (San Francisco). Curiously Halle's (Cleveland) responded that pink was for both boys and girls.

This debate would continue and it wasn't until mid-20th century that pink for girls and blue for boys became firmly cemented in western culture.

However the idea of colour coding infants dates back to the 19th century. According to La cour de Hollande sous le règne de Louis Bonaparte in 1808 in Holland pink was used to announce the birth of a girl and blue a boy. In March 1856 Peterson's Magazine (Philadelphia, USA) advises that the ribbon on a christening cap should be blue for a boy and pink for a girl. On the 23rd of July 1893 the New York Times writes that for baby clothes it's "pink for a boy and blue for a girl!"

[The Oddie Children, oil on canvas, c. 1789, by William Beechey, via North Carolina Museum of Art.]

During the latter half of the 18th century one of the most popular outfits for young children, regardless of gender, was a white dress with a coloured sash tied around the waist. Pink and blue being the most popular colours, although other colours were worn as well. It would be tempting to assume that the colour of the sash indicated gender but there isn't clear evidence that this was the case. The Oddie Children (above) depicts Sarah, Henry, Catherine, and Jane Oddie. The three girls are all wearing white dresses; two with a blue sash one with a pink sash. We also see Henry Russell (bellow left) wearing a blue sash and Prince William (bellow right) wearing a pink sash.

[Left: Anne Barbara Russell née Whitworth with her son Sir Henry Russell, oil on canvas, c. 1786, by George Romney, via Woolley & Wallis.

Right: Prince William, oil on canvas, c. 1767, by Allan Ramsay, via the Royal Collection Trust.]

Pink was just one of the many colours popular in 18th century English womenswear and seems to have stayed popular throughout the century. On the 3rd of January 1712 The Spectator published an article in which a man recalls seeing "a little Cluster of Women sitting together in the prettiest coloured Hoods that I ever saw. One of them was Blew, another Yellow, and another Philomot; the fourth was of a Pink Colour, and the fifth of a pale Green". On the 1st of May 1736 the Read's Weekly Journal, or British Gazetteer reports that the ladies attending the royal wedding wore gowns of "Gold stuffs, or rich Silks with Gold or Silver Flowers, or Pink or White Silks, with either Gold or Silver Netts or Trimmings;" shoes either "Pink, White or Green Silk, with Gold or Silver Lace and braid all over." On the 24th of May 1785 Charles Storer writes to Abigail Adams advising that fashionable colours in English court dress are "pink, lilac, and blue" such "as is worn at Versailles".

[Left: Frances, Daughter of Evelyn Pierpont, 1st Duke of Kingston, oil on canvas, c. 1700-23, by Godfrey Kneller, via Art UK.

Middle: Mrs. Abington as Miss Prue in "Love for Love" by William Congreve, oil on canvas, c. 1771, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, via Yale Center for British Art.

Right: Mary Little, later Lady Carr, oil on canvas, c. 1765, by Thomas Gainsborough, via Yale Center for British Art.]

In particular pink was popular amongst young women as the colour was associated with youth. Older women who wore pink were mocked as vain for dressing in a way that was seen as improper for their age. On the 31st of January 1754 Lady Jane Coke writes to Mrs. Eyre criticising old women who wear pink:

As for fashions in dress, which you sometimes inquire after, they are too various to describe. One thing is new, which is, there is not such a thing as a decent old woman left, everybody curls their hair, shews their neck, and wears pink, but your humble servant. People who have covered their heads for forty years now leave off their caps and think it becomes them, in short we try to out-do our patterns, the French, in every ridiculous vanity.

[Folly Embellishing Old Age With the Adornments of Youth, oil on canvas, c. 1743, by Charles-Antoine Coypel, via Master Art.]

For Englishmen acceptable clothing way much more limited. In A Foreign View of England in the Reigns of George I & George II Monsieur César de Saussure writes that Englishmen "do not trouble themselves about dress, but leave that to their womenfolk". He explains:

Englishmen are usually very plainly dressed, they scarcely ever wear gold on their clothes; they wear little coats called "frocks," without facings and without pleats, with a short cape above. Almost all wear small, round wigs, plain hats, and carry canes in their hands, but no swords. Their cloth and linen are of the best and finest. You will see rich merchants and gentlemen thus dressed, and sometimes even noblemen of high rank, especially in the morning, walking through the filthy and muddy streets.

César de Saussure warns that "a well-dressed person in the streets, especially if he is wearing a braided coat, a plume in his hat, or his hair tied in a bow, he will, without doubt, be called "French dog" twenty times perhaps before he reaches his destination" and is not only at risk of "being jeered at" but also "being bespattered with mud, but as likely as not dead dogs and cats will be thrown at him."

[Reverend Charles Everard Booth, Captain Griffith Booth, and an Unidentified Man playing Billiards, oil on canvas, c. 1775-9, by John Hamilton Mortimer, via the Royal Collection Trust.]

For Englishmen dressing "plainly" mostly meant wearing blacks and browns. In his book on macaroni, Pretty Gentleman, Peter McNeil found that in contrast most English menswear that he describes as generally consisting of "monochrome broadcloth" macaroni wore a variety of colours including green, orange, yellow, violet, red, white, blue, gold, silver and of course pink.

But it's not just the macaroni of the 1770s & 1780s that wore pink. We see pink in descriptions of feminine men's dress (both real and fictional) throughout the 18th century.

On the 2nd of June 1722 Sarah Osborn writes to Robert Byng:

I believe the gentlemen will wear petticoats very soon, for many of their coats were like our mantuas. Lord Essex had a silver tissue coat, and pink color lutestring waistcoat, and several had pink color and pale blue paduasoy coats, which looked prodigiously effeminate.

On the 18th of October 1729 the Universal Spectator and Weekly Journal published a story where an "effeminate" man's clothes were described as follows:

He had a flower'd pink-colour Silk Coat, with a Green-Sattin Waistcoat lac'd with Silver. Velvet Breeches, Clock'd Stockings the Colour of his Coat, Red-heel'd Pumps, a Blue Ribbon at the Collar of his Shirt, and his Sword-Hilt he embrac'd under the Elbow of his Left Arm,

[Sir Miles Stapylton, 4th Bt of Myton, oil on canvas, c. 1730-35, via Art UK.]

In The Adventures of Roderick Random (1748) the effeminate (and queer coded) Captain Whiffle is described as follows:

our new commander came on board in a ten-oared barge, overshadowed with a vast umbrella, and appeared in everything the reverse of Oakum, being a tall, thin young man, dressed in this manner: a white hat, garnished with a red feather, adorned his head, from whence his hair flowed upon his shoulders, in ringlets tied behind with a ribbon. His coat, consisting of pink-coloured silk, lined with white, by the elegance of the cut retired backward, as it were, to discover a white satin waistcoat embroidered with gold, unbuttoned at the upper part to display a brooch set with garnets, that glittered in the breast of his shirt, which was of the finest cambric, edged with right Mechlin: the knees of his crimson velvet breeches scarce descended so low as to meet his silk stockings, which rose without spot or wrinkle on his meagre legs, from shoes of blue Meroquin, studded with diamond buckles that flamed forth rivals to the sun! A steel-hilted sword, inlaid with gold, and decked with a knot of ribbon which fell down in a rich tassel, equipped his side; and an amber-headed cane hung dangling from his wrist. But the most remarkable parts of his furniture were, a mask on his face, and white gloves on his hands, which did not seem to be put on with an intention to be pulled off occasionally, but were fixed with a curious ring on the little finger of each hand.

[Henry Ingram, 7th Viscount Irwin and His Wife Anne, oil on canvas, c. 1745, by Philippe Mercier, via Art UK.]

On the 28th of July 1780 the London Courant reports:

A few days ago, a Macaroni made his appearance in the Assembly-room at Whitehaven, in the Following dress: a mixed silk coat, pink sattin waistcoat and breeches, covered with an elegant silver nett, white silk stockings with pink clocks, pink sattin shoes and large pearl buckles, a mushroom coloured stock, covered with a fine point lace; his hair dressed remarkably high, and stuck full of pearl pins.

On the 6th of August 1792 The Weekly Entertainer published Sketches and Portraits form the Life by Simon Tueopnrastus which included the following description:

Mercator was a youth of some genius and expectation, but by a strange perverseness of disposition, notwithstanding the extreme natural stiffness of his limbs, he had acquired an early attachment to the most finical and effeminate finery; so that, while yet a boy, he would exhaust every expedient of a fertile invention to procure a laced waistcoat, or the most foppish toy; would dangle a watch-string, with brass seals, from each fob, at a time when the frugal care of his parents would not permit him to wear a watch in either; and would strut in a fine pair of second-hand pink silk breeches, and a light blue coat, with all the formal dignity of—a soldier upon the parade.

[Left: Thomas King in "The Clandestine Marriage", oil on canvas, c. 1792, by Samuel De Wilde, via Yale Center for British Art.

Right: Edward Payne, oil on canvas, by Arthur Devis, via Art UK.]

While pink is mentioned in these descriptions of feminine men's dress it's not singled out as the girl colour the way pink would become in the 20th century. I would argue pink is seen as effeminate not because pink is a uniquely feminine colour but because it was used in fashionable dress. In 18th century England being interested in fashion was seen as an frivolous female trait. Men who showed too much interest in fashion were mocked and ridiculed for their gender nonconformity. "A Man must sink below the Dignity of his Nature, before he can suffer his Thoughts to be taken up on so trivial an Affair, as the Chosing, Suiting, and Adjusting the Adornments of his Person," complains a letter published on the 8th of May 1731 in Read's Weekly Journal, or British Gazetteer:

Decency of Garb ought inviolably to be preserved; nor can there be possibly an Excuse for Dressing like a Merry-Andrew: Rich and coloured Silks are in themselves effeminate, and unbecoming a Man; as are, in short, all Things that discover Dress to have been his Study 'Tis in vain for a Fop of Quality, to think his Title will protect him.

[Left: Madame de Pompadour (detail), oil on canvas, c. 1756, by François Boucher, via Alte Pinakothek.

Right: Elizabeth Wrottesley, later Duchess of Grafton, oil on canvas, c. 1764-5, by Thomas Gainsborough, via National Gallery of Victoria.]

English fashion was highly influenced by French fashion. A popular colour scheme in French fashion was green and pink. A famous example of this colour pairing can be seen in François Boucher's portrait of Madame de Pompadour (above left), she is depicted in a green gown with pink bows and flowers. You can see and example of how this style inspired English fashion in Thomas Gainsborough's portrait of Elizabeth Wrottesley (above right), who is depicted in a green gown with a floral pattern adorned with pink, white and green striped bows.

[Left: Sir Harry Fetherstonhaugh, oil on canvas, c. 1776, by Pompeo Batoni, via Wikimedia.

Right: Francis Lind, oil on canvas, c. 1775, by George Romney, via Mackinnon Fine Art.]

Fashionable Englishmen were also inspired by these French designs. Horace Walpole refers to the popularity of the colour combination writing to Lady Ossory on the 19th of February 1774 "If I went to Almack's and decked out my wrinkles in pink and green like Lord Harrington, I might still be in vogue". Almack's is referring to Almack's Assembly Rooms on Pall Mall which is believed to be the inspiration for the Macaroni Club. (see Pretty Gentleman by Petter McNeil p52-55) In a letter to Lord Harcourt on the 27th of July 1773 Walpole writes of "Macaronis lolling out of windows at Almack's like carpets to be dusted."

[Left: Detail of Stephen Fox from The Hervey Conversation Piece, oil on canvas, c. 1738-40, by William Hogarth, via Fairfax House.

Middle: Sir William Jones, oil on canvas, c. 1769, by Francis Cotes, via Art UK.

Right: Portrait of a Gentleman, oil on canvas, by George Romney.]

Men who wore green seem to have been just as much, if not more, at risk of being ridiculed, or even assaulted, for the colour of their clothes as those who wore pink. In Pierre Jean Grosley's A Tour to London (originally published 1772) he recalls traveling with a young English surgeon who was harassed by Londoners due to his green French frock coat:

At the first visit which he paid me in London, he informed me, that, a few days after his arrival, happening to take a walk thro' the fields on the Surry side of the Thames, dressed in a little green frock, which he had brought from Paris, he was attacked by three of those gentlemen of the mobility, who, taking him for a Frenchman, not only abused him with the foulest language, but gave him two or three slaps on the face: "Luckily, added he in French, I did not return their ill language; for, if I had, they would certainly have thrown me into the Thames, as they assured me they would, as soon as they perceived I was an Englishman, if I ever happened to come in their way again, in my Paris dress."

#fashion history #god I spent so long sifting through primary sources for mentions of pink

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copperbadge · 1 year

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please tell us what the Sandra Bullock clause is! (if only so i can use it on all of my friends this holiday season)

Oh, that was just a throwaway joke line, there isn't actually one -- I just said "per the Sandra Bullock clause" because she's the star of While You Were Sleeping.

Although I suspect there is merit to the idea that any given movie made by Hollywood, Sandra Bullock has made a version of it which is either better, more fun, or more interesting.

So Die Hard, if it indeed is a Christmas movie, is mooted by While You Were Sleeping. There's Ocean's 11 and Ocean's 8, of course. She wipes out an entire genre of car chase films (the FastFurious franchise, the French Connection, etc) with Speed. I'm not sure what Two Weeks Notice is a better version of, but there's bound to be something. I haven't seen The Lake House but I bet nobody else has either so they can't argue with you when you assert it's a superb time travel movie. She played Miriam in Prince of Egypt which wipes out every swords'n'sandals epic. Miss Congeniality is a fantastic undercover cop film. She's done at least one spy movie too, hasn't she? And she did The Blind Side, which while kind of a creepy film is more interesting than most sports films.

I started the response to this ask as a joke but I think I might actually be onto something profound here. I think if you are hanging out with a bunch of pretentious film nerds and you mention the Sandra Bullock Clause, ie if a film exists she has been in a version of it which is either better or more fun, you could really make some people BIG mad.

#sandra bullock #film studies #cinema

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mayfriend · 2 years

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canon things we know about the umbrella academy

luther used to marry viktor’s action figures at the age of eight

reginald used to watch the kids sleep and monitor their brainwaves

at some point, grace became ‘mom’ instead of ‘grace, the new nanny’ to all of the children

five was thirteen years old when he found his siblings’ bodies

klaus is the only umbrella native to the usa, coming from an amish community in pennsylvania; luther is from sweden, diego from mexico, allison from south africa, five from ireland, ben from south korea and viktor from russia

viktor cried when his siblings stepped on ants when they were children

the same kid hated oatmeal so much he killed minimum three nannies at the age of four

klaus broke his jaw when they were twelve after falling down the stairs wearing grace’s heels, and had to have it wired shut for eight weeks

grace helped the children pick out their own names

viktor realised he was trans after falling in love with sissy in the sixties

diego boxes under his comic book superhero name, the kraken, and in claire’s bedtime stories, allison calls luther his, spaceboy

diego’s preferred form of conflict resolution is a dance battle

hargreeves considered ben ‘easily manipulated’

both klaus and luther got kidnapped without any other members of their family noticing

after ben died, his family remembered him as the best of them who could do no wrong; klaus, who spent everyday with him, more accurately described him as a ‘loveable asshole’. all of them remember him as loving his family fiercely, and being the glue that kept them together

allison starred in a movie with sandra bullock

with viktor speaking russian, diego speaking spanish and ben speaking korean, it’s highly likely that hargreeves made a point to have them learn the languages their birth mothers spoke

reginald forced all the kids to read shakespeare, the odyssey in ancient greek and insisted on ballroom dancing lessons

sometime between season 1 and season 2, klaus learned how to drive

allison speaks seven languages, and five knows both ancient greek and italian

grace helped diego with his stutter

before he travelled back in time and met dave, klaus’ longest relationship was two-weeks long and primarily because he was tired of sleeping rough

ben and diego made allison’s teddy say ‘luther smells dad’s underwear’ as kids

diego told klaus that licking a battery would give him pubes when they were eight, and klaus believed him

klaus’ special training in the mausoleum was meant to make him too afraid of the ghosts to function, so reginald could control him better; reginald also killed him there at age thirteen, and possibly earlier

viktor’s violin once belonged to reginald’s late wife

diego’s ‘vigilante shit’ was a trauma response

allison was the first of the umbrellas to become a parent, and diego will be the second

ben almost certainly knew that klaus was dying and reanimating, as they spent sixteen years together after his death, and apparently never mentioned it

ben died at sixteen, and stuck around as a ghost for a further sixteen years before going into the light

it was a rule that nobody could speak at mealtimes, and they had to listen to various lectures on the radio

the children got half an hour on sundays for fun and games

the kids used to sneak out of the academy to go and get donuts at griddy’s

five used to get five stars in all of his performance reviews, although luther, hargreeves’ apparent favourite, did not

diego considered viktor’s book unforgiveable, but forgave him for ending the world in 1963 after he apologised

klaus has died fifty-six times by the age of thirty-two

ben died in something called ‘the jennifer incident’, although we still don’t know what it was or exactly how he died

luther spent four years alone on the moon; solitary confinement is considered torture by the united nations after fifteen days

luther wrote poetry on the moon, and self-harmed

diego has a fear of needles

klaus is now physically the oldest sibling, whilst five is mentally the oldest

allison rumoured either luther or patrick to love her

reginald told the kids at ben’s funeral that it was their fault he was dead

diego and klaus used to huff paint as teenagers

five spent somewhere between forty and forty-four years in the apocalypse; his contract with the commission was for five years, and we know he broke it before it was complete

as an old man, five had a moustache

luther, five and klaus all have problems with substance abuse

five and viktor were best friends growing up, as were allison and luther

luther got allison a locket with ‘A + L’ engraved on it when they were teenagers

allison rumoured herself onto a soccer team at one point, despite being homeschooled

luther wanted to go to summer camp, but reginald told him he would never go

none of his siblings know that diego shut grace down in season 1

five singlehandedly invented the formula for time travel

luther fell for the nigerian prince scam

#tua #tua spoilers #im making this more for myself and my own reference than anything (fic writing) but i thought it'd be interesting to share as well #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #grace hargreeves #i know these are all out of order but im writing them as i remember them #ref

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coldemergency · 7 months

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Unfinished work that I'm proud of 🤗❤️

Summary: After being hit by a spell Harry is de-aged into an infant. Fortunately, his mind is intact. Unfortunately, no one else knows.

Chapter 1: Helpless

Harry stared up into red eyes and cried. It was more like a wail actually, small and pathetic. Just like Harry.

One second he was running in the atrium, then Dumbledore was defending him, then he jumped in stupidly wanting to help and was hit by a strange spell and shrunk uncomfortably. He hit the ground, only cushioned by his now oversized clothes, and found that he could no longer control his limbs.

He was stuck inside his robes, dark and the sound outside was muffled. He could hear yelling, and the occasional spell zapped over him. He was grabbed by someone, yanked hard, and then was apparated away while being clutched tightly.

He tried to fight, he tried to scream but all he could do was helplessly gaze at red eyes when his robes were pulled back.

Voldemort was holding him, eyes wide, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When Harry began crying, the man grimaced, and he thought that the wizard might drop him. To his surprise the Dark Lord adjusted his hold, cradling Harry comfortably in his robes. Harry tried to move his arm, maybe slap Voldemort, but all he managed was a sad wave.

Long white fingers reached out, curiously holding onto his hand. His little baby hand. Dear Godric, he was a fucking baby? Harry cried harder then, gripping his enemy's finger as tightly as he could, willing it to hurt even though he knew it was useless now.

Voldemort clicked his tongue in annoyance at him.

The man waved his wand, and Harry watched through misty eyes as a bottle appeared. The Dark Lord shoved it into his open mouth, and Harry tried to cry around it but found it much too hard. He closed his mouth, clasping the soft rubber between his gums, and simply accepted the drink.

The milk within was sweet and warm, and Harry begrudgingly had to admit it was quite delicious.

He was still mad though.

Voldemort held the bottle, feeding him, watching him with a strange look on his face. Was he not going to kill Harry? There would never be a better opportunity than this, yet the man seemed content in nursing him.

It was fucking weird.

Harry stared up at the man, the monster who killed his parents, the man who tried to kill him. Why bother with this? Why not just chuck him out the window, or drown him? Surely Voldemort had better things to do with his time than care for a baby.

“You’ll be much less of a problem like this, Harry,” Voldemort murmured, his long finger caressing his cheek. Harry wanted to bite it off. Gum it off? Bullocks.

Had this been planned all along? Although he preferred this over being dead, Harry wasn’t sure of what to make of this strange situation. He doubted very much that he was supposed to still be mentally 15. But of course, Harry was the best at screwing things up.

If Voldemort thought this was going to be easy, he had another thing coming.

~~~~~~

Time was weird as a baby. Harry couldn’t keep track of days and nights, and Voldemort didn’t seem to sleep or eat at regular intervals. Harry slept a lot, he slept an ungodly amount. He couldn’t help it. He tired easily, after eating, moving, or breathing he fatigued and would be dozing off quickly.

There were times he was sure Voldemort was using magic to keep him sleepy, probably during the periods in which he’d be left alone for an unknown amount of time. Voldemort would always return. The man alone cared for him. Harry had yet to see another person and was sure he was dead to the world.

He wondered if anyone knew what had happened. Dumbledore had been there when he was hit with the spell, but even he couldn’t know everything. Had the old man seen his little form, wiggling under his clothes? Or perhaps his eyesight was too bad and he’d watched in horror as Harry seemingly disappeared from existence.

He had no clue.

Voldemort wasn’t helping either, he’d barely talk around Harry. The man would mumble while reading, and murmur short sarcastic comments at Harry that he didn’t think he understood. It was more than clear that the Dark Lord had no fucking idea that Harry was indeed still himself. If he knew, Voldemort would probably talk down at him, mock him, or straight up kill him when he realized his spell hadn’t worked properly.

It was in Harry’s best interest to keep up the charade until he could fight back, run away, or somehow send a message to Dumbledore.

Harry wiggled, trying to move his hands and feet in a swaddle he was wrapped in.

The Dark Lord looked up from his writing, looking Harry over before resuming whatever it was the man was doing. After weeks of this, Harry thought that the man would grow tired of him, hand him off to a Death Eater, or feed him to his snake. Instead, he seemed to adjust to having a baby.

Harry gurgled, trying to whine as he wiggled. He was feeling restless.

Red eyes looked up once again, this time Voldemort placed his quill down in its holder and reached over to grab Harry. He unfolded the soft blanket that was wrapped around him, picking him up and minding his head as he brought him to his lap. Harry settled in his hold, happy that the Dark Lord's hands weren’t cold at least.

Harry blinked up at the pale face and watched as an almost unnoticeable smile crept onto Voldemort’s face.

“So fussy,” the man murmured. Harry tried to deny it but grunted in response. The older wizard ran his hand through his hair, displacing the small curls. He seemed to be amused by it. Harry was not. “You’ll make a perfect little Slytherin,” he stated, sending a cold shiver down Harry’s spine. “How do you like Harrison Tomas Riddle? Or perhaps Hadrian Marvolo Riddle?”

Harry wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening. Voldemort was really going to try and raise him. Feeling frustrated Harry cried out, he wanted the man to know exactly how he felt about being renamed to fit into his sick fantasy. He belted out loudly, eyes quickly covering in a sheen of tears. Voldemort chuckled, gently bouncing him. Harry cried harder.

“You’re absolutely right, Harry. Neither is good, why should you have to bear my filthy father's muggle name?” Harry had to pause to take in a breath. “Perhaps it’s time to revive the Gaunt line,” he mused. Ignoring Harry’s tantrum.

The man smiled down at him, red eyes filled with pride. Harry hated him. He hated him.

~~~~~~

At some point, Harry was able to start supporting his own head. His neck was no longer as bendy and weak as a cooked spaghetti noodle. He was having an easier time directing his hands to where he wanted them to go and was practicing grabbing hold of things.

With his small, newfound strength, Harry tried his best to annoy the shit out of Voldemort. He’d grasp random things, throwing them to the floor or bringing them to his mouth to slobber on. He’d turn his head away from the man constantly, refusing to look at him or acknowledge him. He could tell it bothered him, which was hilarious.

The Dark Lord fell out of favor with his baby.

When he tried feeding him, Harry would spit it up. He loved making a mess, even though it took Voldemort less than two seconds to clean.

The game became boring after a while since the man never retaliated. Harry wasn’t sure what he expected. The Dark Lord never cursed at him or yelled. He never hurt him, hands as gentle as always. He would spend hours trying to feed him, even after Harry spits up countless times.

When Harry cried at night, the Dark Lord always, without fail, would come to his cot and comfort him. He never looked tired, instead, he seemed to enjoy the time he spent with Harry, as unpleasant as he made it.

Harry hated him for it.

He’d gotten used to diaper changes, grateful for magic since the Dark Lord never had to touch him for that, but for bath time it was still as embarrassing as ever. For whatever reason the Dark Lord preferred bathing him in the traditional way, instead of just using magic to vanish the food and grime from feedings and drool.

He had a small basin that he’d fill with lukewarm water, and he’d use one arm to hold Harry in the water while he cleaned him with the other. The soap he used made Harry’s skin very smooth, and the cloth he used to wipe him down was possibly the softest thing Harry had ever felt in his life. It was a stark contrast to the rough rags his Aunt would use to scrub him until his skin was red.

After his baths Voldemort would towel dry him carefully, patting him down before placing a diaper on him and fitting him with warmed clothes. Bathtime was always before bedtime, and Harry was always the most relaxed afterward, clean, warm, and comfortable. Sometimes he would forget to be humiliated until the morning after.

They had a routine and followed it usually. There were the odd times that Harry would be left alone for longer than usual, Voldemort was probably busy torturing muggles and having slumber parties with Malfoy. But those times alone were few and far between. It would seem the Dark Lord had plenty of free time, ignoring how much paperwork the man did.

He was always reading and writing. It was so fucking boring. Harry would bother him, and Voldemort always was happy for the interruption.

Harry was surprised one evening to find that Voldemort does in fact sleep.

The man had taken a break from his book, rubbed his eyes, and took Harry with him to his bedroom. Harry had been there twice that he could recall since living here. Voldemort lay on his bed, putting Harry on his chest, and then took a fucking nap.

Harry was appalled, absolutely disgusted. But intrigued all the same.

He watched Voldemort sleep as he lay there, rising and falling with his chest. The man must have been tired as it hadn’t taken long for him to go under. He didn’t snore, or twitch. He was very still. Harry hated that the sound of the man’s heartbeat was comforting. It made his eyes heavy, and he tried to fight it but in the end, he closed his eyes and nodded off as well.

After that, the Dark Lord took Harry with him whenever he slept. It wasn’t all that common, no rhyme or reason to the schedule. Harry wondered if the man slept because he needed to or if he just felt like it.

He still hadn’t seen the man eat a single thing since being in his care. He would drink a rare glass of wine, or sip on tea, but never anything substantial. No wonder the man was practically a walking skeleton. The opposite of Harry who had been gaining weight, as babies do. Voldemort had once rolled his little fat rolls between his bony fingers, chuckling.

“Look at how fat you’ve become,” He stated gleefully. “You’ll be much healthier this time around, I can assure you of that,” He promised, making Harry both sick to his stomach and also secretly relieved. He was so ready for real food, none of that mushy crap.

In fact, Harry was so ready for anything that would give him any kind of independence. He’d be the fastest potty-trained kid the world would see. Then, when he had the motor skills, he would learn to run as fast as he could. With the right amount of strength, he might be able to stab Voldemort to death in his sleep.

How morbid.

But it would come to that in the end, wouldn’t it? He still had to fight the man. There still had to be a winner. Didn’t there? He had kept his memories for a reason. The world was giving him a fighting chance. He was the only one.

It would have to happen.

There was no other choice.

#harry potter #fanfic #harry potter is a menace #hp #fanfiction #voldemort #tom riddle #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #fanfic writing #unfinished #ideas #short story #short stories #harry potter au #harry james potter #harry potter fanfiction #daddy voldemort

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grotesquehorse · 9 months

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Red, White and Royal Blue (2023) is a tragedy, but not for the reasons that people who hate the book on principle are talking about. It's not just a bad adaptation, it's a bad movie. There is nothing redeeming about it except the casting of Sarah Shahi as Zahra.

First of all, I want to say, that the book DOES have depth. Just because a book is a romcom doesn't mean it doesn't have depth. And I'm sick and tired of seeing the criticism from people who didn’t read the book say "people are complaining that the movie doesn't have depth but the book didn't have depth either, so what were you expecting". It fucking has depth. And I have a right to be upset that the movie absolutely fucking butchered it.

The Casting

The casting, although it has been criticized, has not been criticized for the correct aspects. Nick and Taylor have enough chemistry to be passable for a romcom - it's not great, but at least it wasn't Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant in Two Weeks Notice.

The casting for Alex was not good. I have nothing against Taylor, but his thousand-yard stare had nothing behind the eye(lashes) and actively hindered any and all of Alex’s interactions. Nick was better; Henry is a more subtle character (as he has to be), and this was portrayed much more convincingly.

Nora was fucking annoying and her actress was bad. Uma Thurman does not belong in this movie. Stephen Fry, although the funniest possible actor to put in that role, shouldn't have been in this movie either.

Alex, as a character, was butchered. He should have a Type-A, bouncing off the walls, undiagnosed ADHD, horny but anxious confidence about him. Movie Alex was entirely wrong. I would call him suave, but I don't find him charming. The audience is supposed to think he's suave, maybe, but this is the wrong character trait to give him. He is supposed to be confident and charming, but not suave. There is nothing going on in his head, and this is especially detrimental when Book Alex’s main personality trait is that he overthinks everything at every possible angle.

The Alex and Henry Relationship

The first kiss between Alex and Henry and the scene preceding it are all wrong. Movie Alex is kissing multiple different women and Henry is much more isolated than in the book. Alex’s first line in the confrontation is supposed to be "what are you doing out here?" not "did I do something wrong?" when Henry leaves the party; it's supposed to be more nuanced. Henry should be feeling "of course he's straight, he can't want me, I can't want him" not "betrayed because Alex kissed someone who is not me". Alex is not supposed to know that Henry is upset. Alex is not supposed to think that he is the cause of Henry being upset. The movie cuts any of the depth between them. Another core personality trait of Alex, is that he is selfish. He forgets to text June back about dinner, he gets wrapped up in his own head, he doesn’t understand his friendship/relationship with Liam. He doesn’t understand that he may be the cause of Henry’s emotions.

The camping scenes touched on Alex being selfish, but again, in all the wrong ways. He starts talking about how they could be out as a real couple after the reelection, but he fails to consider that Henry is a prince of England. Truly baffling writing choice, considering Alex is supposedly intelligent and political and, while selfish, extremely aware of the politics surrounding his and Henry’s relationship. Book Alex would never have suggested that they come out the way that Movie Alex did. Movie Alex is a fucking idiot, and didn’t do much to even try to convince me otherwise.

Although I hoped that the movie would be more romcom and less political/royal drama, I’m still dissatisfied with how the movie executed this. There was no journey watching Alex and Henry become friends. There was no "I’ve been in love with you for years" from Henry. There was no "you obsessively looked at his picture in a magazine" from Alex. A large part of the animosity between them, for Alex, is that they are constantly compared in the media. They are uniquely perfect for each other because they are both in very specific spotlights. This aspect of their relationship is completely absent from the movie.

My friend wouldn't let me skip the sex scene, but just know that it was fucking uncomfortable.

The Implications

The combination of Liam and Rafael Luna into one journalist character is a twofold character assassination. You can't take a high school hook up and a gay political professional (who Alex looked up to) and combine them into a journalist. It doesn't work. Miguel, the journalist, acts like a villain immediately - sunken eyes with a scorned lover attitude. He's a joke. There's no nuance in taking two crucial pieces of Alex’s sexuality journey and mashing them together to create an evil gay guy with no explanation.

It's implied that Miguel leaked the emails, but this ignores the actual triple agenting that Rafael Luna was doing. This movie is rated R, but we can't talk about a man attempting to sexually abuse another man because we can't talk about sexual assault amongst the LGBT community; that would make the gays look bad. But we can diminish two characters and create an evil gay journalist archetype who just wants to out Alex and Henry for his own professional gain (and maybe get back at Alex for refusing to hook up with him again). So, you tell me, which gay representation is "worse" for the gays?

Miguel had to be created to be the villain so that Richards, the republican candidate running against Alex’s mom, the one who abused men and attempted to sexually assault Rafael Luna, couldn't be the villain that he is in the books. Because that would alienate the republican audience. Because the republican audience is so crucial to the marketing of what is considered the first mainstream gay romcom.

The Technical Aspects

The social media editing was bad. The way the emails were done was bad. There was no version of this movie that would be successful. There's too much reliance in the book on texts and emails, and you can't build a relationship through technology in a movie. It's always unsuccessful.

The cinematography is Hulu-original bland. The directing was incompetent. The script was incoherent at worst, and over written at best. "trouble you no longer" is a bad line. "he grabbed my hair in a way that made me understand the difference between rugby and football." what the fuck are you talking about.

I hate that the movie was bad, but it was bad. I don't know what fucking movie these other people are watching, but Red, White and Royal Blue (2023) is fucking unwatchable.

#txt #do NOT talk to me about this movie. i know the fandom type.#do NOT reply and put stupid shit #i delete replies and block people for ANYTHING.#anti rwrb 2023

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cantsayidont · 5 months

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July 1983 to October 1986. In 1983, DC lured Doug Moench away from Marvel and books like MASTER OF KUNG FU and MOON KNIGHT to take over BATMAN and DETECTIVE COMICS under the editorship of Len Wein. Their run, which lasted 40 months, was the final phase of the Bronze Age Batman continuity; although it continued for some months after the end of CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS, everything up to DETECTIVE COMICS #566 and BATMAN #400 is functionally part of pre-Crisis continuity, in particular most anything to do with Jason Todd becoming the second Robin. (Jason debuted during the end of Gerry Conway's run in early 1983, but it was Moench and Wein who oversaw Jason's actually becoming Robin.)

From 1981 to 1986, there was a tight continuity between BATMAN and DETECTIVE COMICS: a story begun in one book would continue in the other two weeks later. This was something new for Batman; there had been occasional multi-issue storylines for years, and Steve Englehart and Len Wein had introduced a certain amount of Marvel-style continuity in the late '70s, but having around 40 story pages per month allowed more room for character-focused stories, supporting characters, and subplots. When Doug Moench arrived, a central focus was on leading up to Jason Todd becoming Robin, but there were also numerous other major and minor subplots, from Alfred's attempts to connect with his adult daughter, Julia Remarque (introduced by Conway in 1981), to Gotham's messy city politics and power struggles in the underworld.

In MASTER OF KUNG FU, Moench's signature storytelling preoccupation had been "kinky weirdos hurting each other's feelings," and his initial run on the Bat-books also featured a series of messy, sometimes bloody romantic triangles, the most important of which involved Batman; the now-reformed Catwoman; Nocturna (Natalia Knight), a pretentious Goth burglar who attempted to adopt Jason Todd; and Nocturna's adoptive brother Anton, who became a cat burglar out of deranged obsession with Natalia and later tried to kill her so no one else could have her. It was all very grandiose and inevitably somewhat florid, but then expecting gritty, understated realism from a comic book about a man who fights crime dressed as a bat is itself pretty silly.

The strongest story in this run actually has little to do with that soap opera: "What Price the Prize?" in BATMAN #372, is an intelligent, grounded drama about an up-and-coming young Irish boxer maneuvering for a bout with a Black champion obviously inspired by Muhammad Ali, featuring some of Don Newton's finest Batman art; the conclusion in DETECTIVE #539 isn't quite as sharp, but is still one of Moench's best. Other highlights include a clash with Catman (BATMAN #371/DETECTIVE #538) in which Thomas Blake's determined belief in the magical power of his costume nearly gets both him and Batman killed over and over; a wistful story about the private life and hidden depths of boorish Harvey Bullock (DETECTIVE #549); a delightful one-shot (BATMAN #383) in which Batman repeatedly tries and fails to get some sleep; the debut of Black Mask (BATMAN #385–386 and DETECTIVE #553); a comedic tale of Batman and Catwoman on an actual date, in costume (BATMAN #392); and a distinctly '80s-Bondian espionage adventure reuniting Moench and artist Paul Gulacy (BATMAN #393–394).

Artistically, the run got off to a good start with Don Newton on BATMAN (inked by Alfredo Alcala) and Gene Colan on DETECTIVE (generally inked by Bob Smith). Newton's departure in 1984 hurt, leading to a period of artistic musical chairs and some really bad early Pat Broderick art, followed by Tom Mandrake taking over BATMAN. Mandrake gets a bad rap in some quarters, mostly because his style is looser (and about two steps further in the direction of Gene Colan) than many comics fans care to tolerate, but his work here is mostly fine, and certainly an improvement over Broderick's. The Annual has some very nice early Denys Cowan pencils, inked by Alcala, and BATMAN #400 is an all-star extravaganza art-wise.

Maddeningly, DC has never properly reprinted a lot of this material, which I think is badly overdue. If it's not as epochal as some more familiar periods both before and after, the median level of quality is pretty decent (and certainly no worse than the 1987–1991 period, which has now been reprinted in its entirety); its emphasis on characterization wouldn't be matched again in the Batman titles for many years. Denny O'Neil supposedly hated much of what Moench had done (Moench has said O'Neil especially loathed Nocturna, whom he flatly refused to revive in any form), but Denny is dead now, and in any case, his Batman stories include their share of stinkers as well as gems. I don't know that DC has any kind of real reprint strategy anymore, but I hope they won't wait until Doug Moench is dead to properly remaster and collect these issues. Doing them all (BATMAN #360–400 and Annual #10, DETECTIVE #527–567) in something akin to Marvel's Epic Collection format would probably take four volumes — there's around 1,800 pages of material, more if you include Moench's Superman/Batman stories from WORLD'S FINEST — but why not?

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justforbooks · 1 year

Photo

When Tina Turner, who has died aged 83, walked out on her abusive husband Ike in Dallas, Texas, she feared it would spell the end of her showbusiness career. It was 1976, and she had been performing with Ike for two decades, since she had first jumped onstage and sang with his band at the Manhattan club in East St Louis, Missouri. Yet, although she was desperate and had only 36 cents in her pocket, she was on her way to a renaissance as one of the most successful performers in popular music during the 1980s and 90s.

She had to endure several lean years, but a turning point came in 1983, when David Bowie told Capitol Records that she was his favourite singer. A version of Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together followed. Produced by the electro-poppers Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh from Heaven 17, the track went to No 6 in the UK, then cracked the US Top 30 the following year.

Turner cemented the upturn in her fortunes with the album Private Dancer (1984). Driven by the huge hit What’s Love Got to Do With It? (her first American No 1), the album became a phenomenon, lodging itself in the American Top 10 for nine months and going on to sell more than 10m copies. Suddenly Turner was one of the biggest acts in an era of stadium superstars such as Michael Jackson, Dire Straits and Phil Collins.

In 1985 she was recruited to play Aunt Entity in the film Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, for which she recorded another international chartbuster, We Don’t Need Another Hero. A second Thunderdome single, One of the Living, won her a Grammy award, and she was an automatic choice to join the Live Aid benefit concert in that year, as well as to participate in its American theme song, We Are the World.

Her follow-up album, Break Every Rule (1986), launched Turner on a global touring campaign, during which a crowd of 184,000 watched her in Rio de Janeiro. The tour spun off a double album, Tina Live in Europe (1988).

The album Foreign Affair (1989) sold 6m copies and generated another trademark anthem, The Best, which was subsequently used to add oomph to numerous TV commercials and adopted both by the tennis ace Martina Navratilova and the racing driver Ayrton Senna. The subsequent Foreign Affair tour ended in Rotterdam in 1990, after which she duetted with Rod Stewart on the old Tammi Terrell/Marvin Gaye hit It Takes Two. Designed as the theme for a Pepsi advert, the track was a chart hit across Europe.

Turner was born Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, to Zelma Currie, a factory worker, and her husband, Floyd Bullock, a Baptist deacon. Abandoned by their father and temporarily by their mother, in 1956 Annie and her elder sister, Alline, moved to St Louis, Missouri, where they encountered Ike Turner and his band the Rhythm Kings. After Annie had talked the initially reluctant Ike into letting her sing with the band, he recruited her as one of his backing singers.

It was in 1960 that Tina – who had by then changed her name because it reminded Ike of the cartoon character Sheena, Queen of the Jungle – first sang a lead vocal with Ike’s band. A session singer failed to turn up, and Tina’s stand-in performance of A Fool in Love was a hit on both the pop and R&B charts. Ike immediately rebuilt his act around Tina, and christened it the Ike and Tina Turner Revue. They married in 1962.

Featuring nine musicians and a trio of skimpily dressed backing singers, the Ikettes, the Revue took the R&B circuit by storm. Tina rapidly developed into a mesmerising performer, radiating raw sexuality and bludgeoning audiences with the unvarnished force of her voice. They began to pepper the charts with hits, including I Idolise You, Poor Fool and Tra La La La La, and even if they only intermittently crossed over from the R&B charts to the pop mainstream, the band’s performing reputation was second to none. Evidence of their stage prowess was preserved on the 1965 album Live! The Ike and Tina Turner Show, recorded on tour in Texas.

However, the seeds of the couple’s destruction were being sown in their successful but intense lifestyle. Ike was a habitual womaniser, and also developed a destructive cocaine habit. This provoked violent outbursts against Tina, who, as she later revealed in her 1986 autobiography, I, Tina, was beaten, burned with cigarettes and scalded with hot coffee. She gained a glimpse of what life beyond Ike’s intimidating orbit might be like when she worked with the “Wall of Sound” producer Phil Spector in 1966. To Ike’s frustration, Spector refused to allow him in the studio while he worked on the single River Deep, Mountain High, which subsequently became regarded as a high point of both Spector’s and Turner’s careers.

The Turners’ work won them the admiration of many of their peers, not least the Rolling Stones, who invited them to open a UK tour for them in 1966, then to join them on their American tour in 1969. Mick Jagger was regularly spotted at the side of the stage during Tina’s performances, fascinated by her stage presence and dance routines. One of the high points of Live Aid in 1985 was Tina and Jagger performing together at JFK Stadium in Philadelphia.

Working with the Stones prompted the Turners to import a rock-orientated edge into their work, a ploy that worked most successfully when they recorded John Fogerty’s Proud Mary in 1971. It was their first million-selling single and a Top five hit on the American pop charts. In 1973 they notched up another landmark with Tina’s feisty composition Nutbush City Limits, inspired by her Tennessee origins. She took the role of the Acid Queen in Ken Russell’s film of The Who’s rock opera, Tommy (1975): her performance was one of its few critically acclaimed moments, though her spin-off solo album, The Acid Queen, made little impression on the charts.

After her split from Ike, Tina stayed with friends and was forced to survive on food stamps. When their divorce was finalised in 1978, she preferred to take no money or property from the settlement, to establish a complete break from her husband. She earned cash from TV guest appearances on the Donny & Marie and the Sonny & Cher shows, but her late-70s albums Rough and Love Explosion sold poorly.

In 1980 she signed a management deal with Roger Davies, an Australian promoter working in the US, who secured some lucrative engagements in Las Vegas. The following year the Rolling Stones galloped to the rescue once again by booking her as the opening act on their Tattoo You tour of the US, and she also appeared with Stewart in a California concert broadcast internationally by satellite.

By the time she was inducted (with Ike, though he was then in jail) into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1991, Turner had little left to prove. She was able to spend more time at the homes in Switzerland and the Cote d’Azur that she now shared with the German record executive Erwin Bach. A singles collection, Simply the Best (1991), reeled in more platinum discs as Turner entered the senior stateswoman phase of her career.

In 1993, as she launched her first US tour in six years, her film biography, What’s Love Got to Do With It, based on I, Tina, was released, starring Angela Bassett as Turner. The film brought forth a bestselling soundtrack album and another hit single with its opening track, I Don’t Wanna Fight.

A three-disc anthology, The Collected Recordings – Sixties to Nineties, appeared in 1994, and the following year came Turner’s recording of GoldenEye, the theme tune of the eponymous James Bond movie. The tour that accompanied her eighth studio album, Wildest Dreams (1996), became another record-breaker, grossing more than $100m in Europe alone. Twenty Four Seven (1999) teed up what Turner announced would be her last major arena and stadium tour. She had intended to tour with Elton John, but the idea was scrapped after she argued with him about the piano arrangement for Proud Mary during rehearsals for a TV special, Divas Live ’99. Her subsequent solo dates became the top-grossing tour of 2000.

A quiet period ensued, during which Turner confined herself to hand-picked events, such as a 2005 performance on the Oprah Winfrey Show. She contributed a version of Edith and the Kingpin to River: The Joni Letters (2007), a tribute album produced by Herbie Hancock. She performed alongside Beyoncé at the Grammy awards in 2008.

That October she went back on the road with the Tina! 50th Anniversary Tour, synchronised with the compilation album Tina: The Platinum Collection. In 2010 she became the first female artist to score top 40 hits in the UK in six consecutive decades (1960s-2010s) when The Best bounced back into the UK Top 10. Her Love Songs compilation appeared in 2014, and her remix of What’s Love Got to Do With It with the Norwegian DJ Kygo in 2020 made for a seventh decade containing UK hits.

Between 2009 and 2014 Turner appeared on four albums by Beyond, an all-woman group formed with her neighbours in Küsnacht, near Zürich. The music reflected the spiritual and religious beliefs of the participants, with Turner considering herself a Baptist-Buddhist (she was raised as a Baptist, but began practising Nichiren Buddhism in 1973).

In 2013 she married Bach and gave up her American citizenship to become a Swiss citizen. Three weeks after the marriage she suffered a stroke, and in 2016 she was diagnosed with intestinal cancer, then suffered kidney failure when “the toxins in my body had started taking over”, as she put it in her second autobiography, Tina Turner: My Love Story (2018). Her husband volunteered to give her one of his kidneys and a transplant operation was carried out successfully in 2017.

The following year, the biographical stage musical Tina opened at Aldwych theatre in London, directed by Phyllida Lloyd and starring Adrienne Warren in the title role. Turner received a Grammy lifetime achievement award, to go with her existing tally of eight Grammy awards and three Grammy Hall of Fame awards. Among her vast collection of honours, Turner also had five American Music awards, two World Music awards and three MTV Video Music awards.

In 2021 she joined the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an outright solo performer and sold the rights to her music catalogue to the publishing company BMG for an estimated $50m. Ready to retire fully, she bade farewell to her fans with the two-part HBO documentary Tina.

Alline died in 2010. Tina’s eldest son, Craig, from a relationship with the saxophonist Raymond Hill, took his own life in 2018. Ronnie, her son with Ike, died in 2022.

She is survived by Erwin and two sons, Ike Jr and Michael, from Ike’s first marriage.

🔔 Tina Turner (Anna Mae Bullock), singer and songwriter, born 26 November 1939; died 24 May 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Tina Turner #Anna Mae Bullock #in memoriam

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nspwriteups · 11 months

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Kannalane Chapter 5: Rupturing of Hearts

A/N: heavy angst

It was well late into the night when Nandini was woken up by the knocking on the door. She glanced at the still sleeping Kaveri and Ananda before watching her father open the door while rubbing his eyes. Immediately three soldiers badged in with drawn swords in their hands. "Sooryanarayanan" One of them said in a deep menacing voice. "Gather your belongings. You are being displaced". "What?" Sooryanarayanan said, half in disbelief and half in protest "What do you mean? Why are we being dragged out like this?" The soldier raised his sword "Who are you to question me? Just do as you are being told and you can keep your life. Otherwise we'll throw all your bodies into river Ponni". Nandini grabbed her father's arm, and she felt someone tug on her clothes and understood that Kaveri has also woken up. "Go pack" Sooryanarayanan said finally "But I want to know on whose orders are being treated this way. What crime have we done?" His question to the armed soldiers went unanswered as they were busy trying not to make any sounds that might wake up the neighbours. But Nandini had a realisation of what could have caused this unexpected visit. A certain elderly woman and her cold stare flashed through her mind but she couldn't bring herself to beleive it. Oh Krishna! Let that not be the case. Please let this be some sort of misunderstanding and everything go back to the way it was. She silently prayed as she tied up her bundle of clothes. Sooryanarayanan put a sleepy Ananda on his shoulders and climbed into the bullock cart that the soldiers indicated to along with his daughters, mumbling about how he would try to consult the king and bring this injustice to light. But Nandini couldn't join him in his affirmation because the reality of things was dawning upon her. "Akka" she heard Kaveri call her and turned "We are being told to go because you fell in love with him aren't we?" Kaveri whispered so that their father couldn't hear the words. Her voice held no hatred, just a tinge of sadness in not seeing her friends anymore and moreover not seeing her family in their previous bliss. Nandini thought back to how she wouldn't be able to see Vishaka anymore. Nor any more of her enjoying the peace of the Banyan tree. Nor any more horse ride with a boy she has come to love with all her heart. She held Kaveri close, failing to keep the tears from escaping.

****************************************

Vishaka stared at the burnt down house of her Sakhi. The news that spread was how the house of Sooryanarayanan was robbed and how the house was set on fire with the inhabitants perishing with it. By the time the neighbours took note of the flames and smoke and put out the fire, it had turned into ashes. Everyone believed that the family died and mourned their loss.But Vishaka wasn't able to believe it. She had her suspicions - Why didn't they hear any commotion or any screaming? She thought back to how Nandini narrated her meeting with Aditha's family and especially about Patti's hot and cold behaviour towards her. Although Nandini accepted the explanation of Aditha's, that some people generally have a strict demeanor and Patti was one of those people. But Vishaka was unable to digest the fact easily. She have heard stories of how girls from lower influencial families are intimidated and threatened to withdraw from any relationship they might have with boys from aristocratic families. She was afraid for the safety of her best friend and resolved to make Nandini see sense the next morning but apparently she was too late. She sat in the ground in front of the burnt house with Suseel supporting her weight as silent tears ran down her cheeks. Amidst the chaos of people enquiring and grieving, she saw a familiar face - a shocked and confused Aditha.

"Look what you have done! " She screamed at him, and Aditha looked at her helplessly "You have destroyed a girl's life along with her family just because she fell victim to your false affections"

Suseel squeezed her shoulders, noticing the crowd whispering to each other, "Vishaka, stop accusing people like Aditha without any evidence. You'll get in trouble "

Aditha approached her by now, "I don't know…." He began to say in a feeble voice, face overwhelmed with grief

"Go and ask your family" Vishaka hissed at him "And if what we see today is your family's doing then then I curse you with unhappiness. You won't be merry by destroying the dreams of a girl that you encouraged endlessly"

Suseel assumed that Aditha was going to shout back at Vishaka or order her imprisonment for allegedly accusing him but all he saw was Aditha getting on his horse and rushing out of the crowd.

********************************************

Shivarama was getting ready to go to court when an angry Aditha stormed into his chamber "I am sorry for intruding like this Appa" he said "But I need to know something right at this moment"

"Aditha" He heard Adithi Devi come towards him "What is all this noise? Come, have something to eat"

"No Amma" He said impatiently " I want to know what fault you saw in Nandini that you dared to do such a degrading act"

"Aditha" Shivarama's voice thundered inside the chamber "I have told you never to accuse someone before knowing all the facts. What are you insinuating?"

Aditha narrated what happened to Nandini's family and their house.

"Oh Shiva!" Adithi said exclaimed, with a hand on her heart "And you think we are capable of committing such a cruel act?"

"I don't know!" Aditha said exasperated "But I do know that they aren't dead. I can feel it. They are alive. She is alive and I'll search and find her"

"Impossible!" He turned around to see Mrinalini Devi " I didn't undergo this much trouble just so you can find her and bring her back"

Adithi Devi gasped while Shivarama and Aditha stared at the elderly woman

"Patti, what did you do?" He asked in disbelief, that the Patti he knew who told him stories of brave kings and warriors, and always told him to follow his heart was capable of stomping on it.

"What a mature person who cares about her family ought to do" Mrinalini Devi stood her ground. "I understand your infatuation with this girl but what good would a priest's daughter be? Say the word and I'll present more beautiful and wealthy girls from all over Choza Nadu"

"No one can hold a candle to my Nandini "

"You think I am heartless?"

"I think you are underestimating my love"

"Foolish child!" Mrinalini shouted "Although I don't know where they are now, go and search to your heart's desire. The day you'll bring her in front of me again will be the day I'll acknowledge the depth of the love that you profess. I'll do aarti and welcome her as this family's daughter in law myself" saying this she left the chamber, leaving behind a determined looking Aditha and a baffled Adithi and Shivarama.

***********************************

The family of Sooryanarayanan was at a changing point in their lives. The soldiers dropped them off at the outskirts of Choza Nadu. For the rest of the night, they took shelter under a tree. In the morning they travelled to Pandiya Nadu and entered a forest where they saw an abandoned Hut and decided to take shelter there. Sooryanarayanan secured a position as a poojari in the nearby temple but he kept a low profile. He still didn't understood why there were exiled from their homeland but he had a feeling that even if he protest against it, he might lose as there seemed to be an invisible influential force acting behind their displacement. He often discussed this with his eldest daughter. "Listen Nandini" He said one day to her "I am growing weak. I may not be able to see all of you grow up and succeed in life. But promise me you'll take care of yourself and your siblings and never let anyone lead your mind to corruption"

Nandini promised him but deep inside she felt her mind was already corrupted with guilt. The fact that her decision to fall in love with Aditha and dared to dream of a secure future with him was the reason they were living as refugees in a strange land. She could no longer hide this truth from her father and so one night when her brother and sister were asleep, she decided to confide in her father.

Sooryanarayanan listened to her with surprising patience and continued to think deeply. He was jolted to present when he felt Nandini touch his feet. "Forgive me Appa" She said amidst crying. He asked her to be seated near him and turned her face towards him.

"Kanne, thank you for confessing to me" He began "But never apologise for falling in love. God has created humans with the sole purpose of propagating the message that one should love and care for each other at all times. Isn't it the society that has created Kings and aristocrats and priest's out of ordinary human beings? Strip off all the crown and the silk clothes and the Pooja thaalis and there'll be nothing to distinguish one human from another. All are same. If what happened to our family was in reality instrumented by Mrinalini Devi, then isn't it evidence that we are so obsessed with status and power that we simply fail to recognise abstract ideas such as love and kindness?"

Nandini couldn't stop her tears as she realised how compassionate and understanding her father is. Sooryanarayanan held his dear first born daughter close.

"If you trust that Shivarama's son doesn't believe in social construct and will do anything in his power to reverse his family's action then kepp hoping in your love. Because without love we will only be a shell of flesh and bones. If you don't beleive so, then forget him, Kanne"

*****************************************

To be continued…..

Chapter 6 Promo:

"Oh Devi" Aditha saw the woman slowly turn around towards them. He was about to ask the way towards the city but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat as he stared at the woman in front of him. He would have recognised those eyes anywhere, the eyes that he searched and haunted him for 7 long years. And the Chempaka flower that was tucked in her hair bun. The woman also stared back at him, at first with confusion at his sudden appearance then with caution at his armour and weapon and at last locked eyes with him, where her eyes widened with shock and confirmed his suspicions.

"Chempaka" he whispered and watched the pot of water slip from her hands and fall to the ground.

Thoughts? @ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @harinishivaa @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo. @willkatfanfromasia@thelekhikawrites@thegleamingmoon@deafeningflowercat@yehsahihai@whippersnappersbookworm@itsfookingloosah@gemsmusings@chiyaanvikram@elvenladysakura. @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney@bumblebeeskywalker@vahnithedreamer@nkarti@dosai-maavu@utterlynotperfect@winter-birds@happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore@rapunzels-stuff@celestesinsight@mairablue@rationalelderberry@existenceiswhateven@arachneofthoughts@spider5884fan11 @cara-2003 @nirmohi-premika @stella12 @thereader-radhika

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #aditha karikalan #nandini #arulmozhi #vanathi #kundavai #vanthiyathevan #arulmozhi varman #nandini x karikalan #nanditha #nandhini #ps fanfiction #fanfiction series

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ughhheragain · 2 years

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The moon boys falling in love with their therapist headcanons?

Steven

"Bullocks" was his very first thought when it hit him.

Steven was on the bus home, after yet another therapy session to which he had become accustomed to. After the "incident" occurred at the museum, he’d felt extremely bad about it and brought himself to accept going to therapy, on the advice of HR.

His heart had jumped on more than one occasions whenever he was in your presence. The setting — although purely profession — still felt intimate to him. During those sessions, it was only the two of you, which Steven wasn’t used to. Sure, he’d spent hours with a colleague or Donna on work duty but none of these women had ever made him feel anything else than friendly thoughts or in Donna’s case, resentment.

Being with you was something else. You’ve never made him feel like he was different, stupid or as if he’s not making sense whenever he speaks his mind. He doesn’t feel invalidated with you and for that, he’s grateful.

Another thing is that he was striked by your beauty since day one. As soon as he saw who asked for "Steven Grant?" in the waiting room next to your office, he was at loss for words.

Somehow, he managed to articulate, "Me? I- I’m Steven Grant." His knees almost gave him up when he tried to get up.

Now, I’m not saying that having Steven as your patient is an easy thing either. At times, it’s hard to keep yourself from smiling too hard whenever he gets caught up in his stories about Ancient Egypt or Egyptian Gods. To not offer to go talk to Donna yourself whenever he shares the awful things she tells him. Steven just has this thing about him that’s difficult to pinpoint.

It’s also difficult to hear him trash talk about himself and invalidating his own thoughts. He’s quick to underestimate himself and in these cases, it’s complicated to stay professional and not go to hold him close as to comfort him.

For you, Steven fell and he fell pretty hard. This leads him to stutter and become a blushing mess when he realises that you really take interest in what he has to share.

Before he finally builds the courage to invite you to dinner, he rehearses in front of his mirror, correcting himself over and over again. "C’mon Steven, you’ve never looked this silly. - What am I even doing?"

He’s also wondered if he was even allowed to invite you out. Was it against the rules?

But, turned out that he didn’t have much time to think about it because he soon came back to his senses.

And when he did so, he found you sitting across his table, in a beautifully dimmed down restaurant. "This, this can’t be," he thought, astonished. You looked beautiful, drop dead gorgeous he’d say even.

At this dinner, you talked about your potential relationship and you told him that no one could know about this, until you could figure it out.

But, this didn’t upset him.

"I- I’d love to be your secret," he admitted almost in a whisper as a warm red was painting his cheeks slowly.

Marc

It took a very long time to get Marc to open up to you. And, even when he started to, you’d always feel that he was still keeping a lot to himself.

I’d say that it took at least 5 sessions to get him to talk to you about his past without having to invite him to do so with questions.

He’s find things to fidget with while talking. Pens, his phone, this little plushy toy you keep on the couch that seems easier to play with rather than having to face your gaze.

But, with time, he’d learned to recognise that you weren’t there to judge him, at all. That feeling was very unknown to him, who’d grown up constantly feeling rejected, as if he didn’t belong. Because it was all the contrary with you, therapy sessions started to become his safe space.

But then, he realised that he’d fallen for you. For your smile, your laugh he’d manage to hear after making a self-deprecating joke — you hadn’t laughed because he was making fun of himself but more out of relief to see that he was making progress and finding light in his errors —, for the comforting words that would come out of your mouth without restraint. Everything you did or said seemed genuine for him and it was comforting.

Many nights were spent sitting on the floor, his back against an empty bed. Some times he’d have a drink in hand, others it’d be his phone as his finger would hover over your number, wondering if calling you would be the right thing to do.

"For God’s sake, shut up Steven, would you? It’s not your call to make," he’d snap at Steven’s reflection in the mirror, who’d spent the last minute trying to convince him to give it a try.

"Actually mate, it kinda is. Now, you can make fun of me all you want but here, you’re the one who’s shitting himself and not being the most courageous."

"Oh, fuck me," Marc growled, shutting the mirror doors abruptly before squeezing the bridge of his nose in defeat.

That night, he grabbed his phone and grew the guts to call you.

"Hey, Dr.-"

"Hi, Marc?- It’s late, isn’t it? Is everything okay?"

Looking back at the time at the top of his screen, which read 9PM, he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip rather strongly. "Right. Have you eaten yet?" he asked, hoping to God that it wasn’t the case.

"Actually, no. I was about to order something, why’s that? Are you okay, Marc?"

His heart swooned when realising that you’d asked him twice about how he was doing, meaning that you cared.

"I am, don’t worry. I haven’t eaten either."

Now, you knew what was coming and smiled on the other end.

"Would you like to come get dinner with me? On me.- I mean, it’s on me. Fu- I’ll pay is what I mean."

Hearing Marc actually let the stress get the best of him and stutter made you laugh in a way that reassured him. It was warm and genuine, which didn’t make him feel judged.

His heart skipped yet another beat when you said "Of course, sure Marc. I’ll send you the address, text me when you’re here."

• After he hung up, he went to grab a jacket and put it on in front of the mirror, where he had to face Steven again, who greated him with a proud grin. "See? Wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?"

Marc scoffed, adjusting his collar, "Because you’re one to speak, right."

Steven rolled his eyes, "Not fair, mate. But, you can have a laugh as much as you want at my expense, you owe me."

"For what, now?" Marc stopped to look at Steven, with his eyebrows raised.

"Well, if I hadn’t pissed you off,-"

"And you’re doing it again, see?" Marc cut Steven off and finished to tie his tie. In the other mirror, Steven closed his eyes for a second and sighed, "I’m not wining this one, am I?"

"Not tonight, brother. Tonight will be my night," he stated at Steven first and repeated the last part once again, but to him as a way to motivate himself.

a.n. here is my first Moon Knight work!! i really love writing about these two — Jake will appear soon, I just need to really get to know his character in more depth so it can be accurate —, i’ll gladly take more HCs requests <3

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twistedtummies2 · 4 months

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Year of the Bat - Honorable Mentions

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In memory of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I will be counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January Before we get to that, though, I decided to take today to present a few Honorable Mentions. These were Twelve Terrific Episodes that ALMOST made the Top 31, but didn’t quite cut it for me.

A Bullet for Bullock.

One of the more unsung things the Animated Series did was bring the character of Harvey Bullock to the spotlight. Bullock is, in my opinion, one of the more underrated characters in Gotham City; he’s not exactly one that’s a household name, and only a few adaptations of comics utilize him to any great degree, if at all. The Animated Series was among them. In this episode – based on a comic of the same name – Bullock becomes the main character, as he is forced to get Batman’s help in order to find out who has been making frequent attempts on his life. The episode sort of riffs on the ideas of film noir, and rides a fine line between dark comedy and mystery thriller. Seeing Batman and Bullock – two constant rivals throughout the show – work together, however begrudgingly, is also quite interesting.

2. Beware the Creeper.

The first episode to be mentioned from “The New Batman Adventures,” and another inspired by a comic. (In this case, the story is very, VERY loosely inspired by “The Last Ha-Ha,” from the Joker’s nine-part miniseries from the 1970s…yes, that was a thing.) “Beware the Creeper” gives us the origins of a new vigilante in Gotham City, the Creeper: a journalist named Jack Ryder, who goes completely insane after being thrown into a vat of chemicals by the Joker himself. Ryder – his skin dyed yellow and hair dyed green by the chemical bath – goes on a rampage of chaos and revenge, seeking to get back at the Clown Prince of Crime, while also becoming smitten with Harley Quinn. The episode starts off honestly pretty dark, but then goes into something that feels more like an episode of “Freakazoid” than your typical Batman adventure. (The fact he’s voiced by “Freakazoid” alumni, Jeff Bennett, probably isn’t a coincidence...although the fact Bennett would, himself, later play the Joker probably is.) It’s easily one of the funniest episodes of the entire series.

3. Deep Freeze.

Ever wanted to see Batman battle Walt Disney? Well, tough luck, I don’t think that ever happened…but this episode KIND OF scratches that itch. “Deep Freeze” was the second appearance of Mr. Freeze, a villain who was truly revolutionized by the incarnation found in the Animated Series. While the stuff with Freeze is, of course, really fantastic – tapping into the gray areas of the character’s morality in a very interesting way – I personally find this more interesting because of the ACTUAL main villain of the story: Grant Walker, a corrupt theme park mogul. Walker is a very direct and obvious parody of Walt Disney himself: the character is an amalgamation of urban legends and rumors about Walt’s life (and even Disney’s death), with a philosophy to his villainy that is essentially a twisted and warped version of Walt’s own ideals. His evil lair is a straight-faced parody of Disneyland! Being the Disney fanboy I am (and also being someone who will concede that, for as great a man as he was, the real Walt was not exactly a flawless person), it’s really cool to see a character like that in a Batman cartoon, and spot all the references and homages. Even if you don’t get all of it, Walker is just a great villain, and makes a fantastic foil for both Batman AND Mr. Freeze. I feel this episode often gets overlooked, but it’s definitely one worth checking out.

4. Double Talk.

This was the final episode to feature two of my favorite, more underrated villains from the Caped Crusader’s Rogues Gallery, the Ventriloquist and Scarface. While I will come right out and say their designs in “The New Batman Adventures” are a bit…odd (which, to be fair, permeates many of the redesigns here), the actual story is so good, it almost doesn’t matter. For those who don’t know, the Ventriloquist – Arnold Wesker – is seemingly mild-manner gentleman whose dark alter ego, Scarface, is expressed through his ventriloquist dummy. In this story, Arnold is seemingly cured of his dual identity crisis, and tries to go back into society to live a normal life. However, after a while, he starts seeing Scarface everywhere, and hearing his voice when he shouldn’t. No longer sure what is real and what is not, Wesker struggles to find a way to escape his darker half once and for all. The twist of who’s behind all this, while admittedly somewhat expected, was still pretty neat, and seeing poor Arnold fight to keep his sanity and stay on the straight and narrow was naturally an engaging setup, and led to some creepy and intriguing visuals. The series did a lot of “Villain Reform Episodes,” which have all become famous in their own right. I personally think this is one of the best.

5. Harley’s Holiday.

Another villain reform episode, and quite possibly the funniest of them all! This was the only appearance Harley Quinn had in the Animated Series where she did NOT get backup from other major villains, like the Joker or Poison Ivy. Her only solo starring role, and it’s definitely a memorable and delightfully zany experience. In the story, Harley is released from Arkham with a clean bill of health, but she very quickly grows frustrated with the real world and turns back to crime, her sanity slipping away once more. This culminates in her taking wealthy socialite, Veronica Vreeland – a friend of Bruce Wayne’s – on a wild joyride, which sees both of them pursued by not only Batman, but also a group of gangsters, Harvey Bullock, and an overzealous army commander IN A TANK. The episode is something of a superhero sitcom, and it’s got a lot of funny moments and lines. The only reason it isn’t in the Top 31 is that I sort of wish this one had been a two-parter. I feel it could have gone even further with both the comedy and Harley’s return to lunacy if it had been given more time. But for what we got, it’s still a fun story that shows why Harley is so well-loved today.

6. Joker’s Millions.

So, fun fact: this episode is based on the very first Batman comic I ever read. Seriously. The first Batman story I ever read was the late Golden/early Silver Age comic, “Joker’s Millions,” in which the Clown Prince of Crime inherits an apparent fortune from a recently deceased gangster who was one of his rivals in crimedom. With all the money in the world at his fingertips, the Joker abandons crime in favor of just living the good life…but it eventually turns out that the gangster has pulled a joke on the Joker from beyond the grave. Most of the money, you see, is actually phony, and with so little of the real stuff now left to his name, the Joker has to figure out a way to gain more, or else he’ll be in trouble with the one foe even HE won’t dare take on head-to-head: the IRS. The episode follows this basic premise, but takes several new detours of its own that makes it really its own beast, such as bringing Harley into the mix and spending more time with the Joker as an apparent millionaire (most of the original comic focuses on the Joker’s attempts to salvage his reputation and fortune after realizing he’s been hoodwinked). I know a few people who feel this episode is almost out of character for the Joker, especially in light of so many recent versions that REALLY push the “who cares about money?” angle, but considering the Joker is canonically strapped for cash at the start of this story, and throughout Season 4 in general, I think it holds up. Plus, being based on a comic so near and dear to my heart definitely gives it a big boost.

7. Judgment Day.

This is one of two episodes in the Honorable Mentions I feel particularly bad for not including in the main list. One of the final episodes of the show, “Judgment Day” focuses on a new, deadly vigilante who comes to Gotham, the Judge. The Judge is hellbent on destroying the lives of all of Gotham’s supercriminals, using much nastier means than Batman ever would. Several famous villains, including Penguin, Riddler, and Killer Croc are all severely injured and nearly killed by this new menace. Batman must figure out who is behind the Judge’s cloak and wig, and stop this deadly threat to his own rogues gallery; the irony abounds. I think part of the reason I don’t like this episode AS much as other people is simply because I’ve seen this idea done before and since in ways that I personally enjoyed more, with some new enemy coming to Gotham to threaten the criminals rather than the innocents. It was, however, interesting to see which specific villains got targeted and how, and the twist ending behind who is truly the Judge – widely considered one of the best twists in the entire series – definitely made the whole journey worthwhile.

8. Mudslide.

This is often considered one of the more gut-wrenching episodes of the show…and since it involves Clayface, that’s saying quite a lot, since he honestly had a LOT of really messed-up and emotional stories throughout the series. In this one, Clayface’s nasty condition worsens, as he is finding it difficult to keep his clay-like form together in one piece. At best for him, this makes him sluggish and more vulnerable; however, the worse it gets, the more likely it is that Clayface will just melt away into a formless mass of goo, and thus perish. Desperate to regain his humanity, or at least keep himself alive, Clayface infiltrates a Wayne Enterprises Biomedical branch to try and find the cure he needs. I’ve always had mixed feelings about this episode, personally: on the one hand, it’s a very gripping story, and has some great visuals in it…but on the other hand, by virtue of the story focusing on a slower, less powerful, more pathetic Clayface, it feels like the character loses some of his punch. Then again, I suppose that WAS the point, and he still does manage to prove a threat in several necessary places. Of course, there’s one particular moment that’s ESPECIALLY notable, and if you’re a Clayface fan (I’m talking kinks here, so you know), you’ll know what it is…but I digress. Regardless, it’s still a great episode.

9. Paging the Crime Doctor.

This episode introduces us to Matthew Thorne: the brother of nefarious gangster Rupert Thorne, who was a recurring antagonist throughout BTAS. Matthew is a former surgeon, who was disgraced due to his connections to his black sheep of a brother; he now works underground as "The Crime Doctor," the finest underground physician any hitman or thug with an injury can go to. Matthew hates the work, but he has no choice, he feels, other than to keep doing this, serving under his brother's thumb. When Rupert requires a very dangerous life-saving operation, Matthew is forced to turn to an old friend for help. The events that transpire reveal secrets about Bruce's family history he never expected, and the story ends on a surprisingly sweet and hearfelt note. This is a more down-to-Earth story than many others in the show, and the Crime Doctor is a great character: it's a pity that he never really showed up again, because between his own issues and his connections to Bruce and the Waynes' past, he could have made an amazing recurring figure in the series.

10. Second Chance.

This episode is both a bit disturbing and yet also weirdly uplifting at the same time. It's an episode that provides a rare spot of hope and friendship in the dark world of Gotham City. The plot focuses on Harvey Dent - a.k.a. Two-Face - getting ready to undergo a surgery, which will hopefully give him the normal, handsome features he once had, and help his therapy along as he tries to become a sane and wholly good human being again. Bruce Wayne, of course, is eager to see this done, but Dick Grayson is less sure things will go the way Bruce hopes. Sure enough, Two-Face gets kidnapped from the hospital, and Batman and Robin both take separate paths to try and figure out what's really going on. The twist on who arranged Harvey's abduction is one of my favorites in the show, and a sign of what made Two-Face episodes so great. I love how the relationships between Bruce and Harvey AND Batman and Robin both get a lot of spotlight here, as both sides learn the value of never giving up hope and listening to those you trust. For all the dark moments in the show and the episode, that's a surprisingly heartwarming message.

11. See No Evil.

Not all of the best episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” focused on him facing his famous rogues or going on grand, epic adventures. Sometimes, smaller adventures with smaller enemies and smaller problems could be just as interesting. “See No Evil” is a great example of this. Inspired by the H.G. Wells classic “The Invisible Man,” Batman is brought into a case of a seemingly invisible jewel thief. It turns out the thief is a man called Ventrix, who has stolen some of an experimental material that renders him invisible. Why is he doing this? Well, Ventrix is the estranged father of a young girl named Kimberly, and he’s using the invisibility suit to give himself a way to see his daughter, masquerading as her “imaginary friend,” known as Mojo. The problem is that the material is not fully tested, and is steadily eating away at the man’s sanity. With both father and daughter in danger for different reasons, Batman must find a way to stop Ventrix and end the invisible man’s reign of terror. While the gimmick of invisibility makes for some great moments, it’s really the core struggle of the episode that makes this story so haunting and so powerful. Ventrix is probably one of the more complicated villains in the series, since all he really wants is to be with his daughter again. However, the methods he uses to try and be with her make him the antagonist, and his attitude ranges from borderline sweet and pitiful…to genuinely REALLY freaking creepy, which makes his exact intentions more ambiguous. It’s a story that blends real world problems and gray areas with a more fantastical side befitting of superhero fiction, and makes for one of the most unsettling and memorable one-off stories of the show.

12. The Worry Men.

This episode mostly gets into the Honorable Mentions because of its villain of choice: Jervis Tetch, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. Anybody who knows me knows that I love the Batman version of the Mad Hatter, and that I’ve always considered the version from B:TAS to be the very best imagining of that character. In “The Worry Men,” the Hatter decides to retire from crime…ironically, by committing crimes to fund said retirement. A bit backwards, but hey, they don’t call him the MAD Hatter for nothing, you know. Anyway, to achieve this, the Hatter kidnaps an African Shaman and has him create a bunch of “Worry Men” – small dolls that supposedly remove a person’s worries and help them have good dreams at night. In reality, the dolls are filled with the Hatter’s patented mind control technology, which causes anybody who gets one to deliver their most prized possessions to the madman’s henchmen. When Bruce Wayne gets victimized by accident as a result, he is put on the Hatter’s trail, which leads to probably one of the most wild showdowns of the program, in terms of imagery. I won’t go into details on what happens, but suffice it to say, it’s more than worth a watch. While by no means one of the most complex stories in the series – it’s a fairly straightforward action/adventure superhero tale – it’s one of the best animated and one of the most visually memorable. Top that off with the villain being a character I enjoy so much, and it’s more than worthy of an Honorable Mention. Tomorrow, the countdown begins with earnest with Number 31! I’ve decided that, for hints in this event, I’ll be providing quotes from each episode featured. With that said… Hint: “I am the cat who walks by herself.”

#list #countdown #best #favorites #new year's special #year of the bat #top 31 btas episodes #btas #batman: the animated series #dcau #dc #batman #animation #tv #honorable mentions

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willkatfanfromasia · 1 year

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We're back with our girl. And I had the itch to write another

A Matter of Chance -5

Nandini resolved to brush away the shock and continue with her daily life.

It had been a whole week but she found it impossible to forget their meeting. She inwardly raged and wept at her weak will…. Why can’t she forget what they shared?

Why can’t she forget him?

Much to her shame, her mind uncontrollably drifted away in his thought…. Leading to discomfort.

Toe banging against the foot of her table

Little finger caught by the closing door.

Foot skewed by the angled rock causing her to stumble.

Not that there was anyone to notice, right?

……………

Turns out, the miasma of anger, hurt and “lovesickness” (as she grudgingly admitted to herself) had jaded her previously keen senses.

A fortnightly visit to the local sandhai (bazaar) had been her only source of news and human communication.

She smiled civilly at the vendors and regular customers as the usual din of bargaining and sharing news commenced.

“What do you mean you never heard it, dear?” questioned the matron. “You live alone in the woods and seemed confident of your abilities to manage! I’m quite worried now!” she admonished Nandini.

Although a deer caught in headlights, her natural wit made Nandini calm the concerned lady- by spinning a tale about a sprained foot that left her housebound.

The rest of the market visit was spent maintaining a calm façade as people took turns discussing the clanging of masonry and asking Nandini’s opinions.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she returned to the usual bullock cart that dropped her at the edge of the woods.

Her shame over her mental state only grew. “ You simpleton! Are you truly the girl who survived years on the street by herself??” her self chiding grew more vicious.

A whole week preoccupied by a meeting that lasted 10 minutes---

that she completely turned a blind eye to the mini barracks constructed outside the forest!

“Nandini” came the dreaded yet anticipated voice. She turned to see a face tinged with longing, joy and insecurity.

Her mind took comfort in the last expression. “ What brings you here, your highness” she mustered as placidly as possible.

“War brought me to this province” came the reply, all while staring at her face.

“You know what I meant, Sire” Nandini was growing impatient.

He smirked as he closed the distance between them, eyes unwavering….. “The forest belongs to all of us, do you seek to drive me out?” he challenged.

She almost allowed her herself to be distracted by his proximity…..

……. Only for his cockiness to snap her out of it

Her eyes flashed “Of course not, your highness! After all, the woods aren’t an empire- where the rulers may throw out anyone they deem unworthy”

Ouch!

Alright that hurt

But Aditha recomposed himself, “she didn’t say anything unwarranted” he thought.

“You’re far too kind to commit unto others what you’ve suffered”, he said gently.

Silence reigned.. as the two imagined how’d they’d like to sort out this tiff- or atleast what they thought they’d like.

“Even a fool wouldn’t forgive the sins that were committed against me” she simply said.

He followed her as she angrily raced back to her hut.

“Leave, I don’t wish to behold you ever again “ came furious feminine taunts. “Begone!”

He wordlessly stayed the course.

A flat rock, nestled in shrubbery and covered by moss, looked enticing as a seat. He sat on it.

She slammed the door of her hut, washed her feet and plonked onto her straw mattress.

@vidhurvrika @vibishalakshman @nashibirne @nspwriteups @thelekhikawrites @kovaipaavai @dr-scribbler @whippersnappersbookworm @yehsahihai @nirmohi-premika @babayagahunt @chiyaanvikram @hollogramhallucination @thatacademic @love-ps1ff

#aditha karikalan #ponniyin selvan #nandhini #ponniyin selvan fanfiction #nandini x aditha #nandini

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steelycunt · 3 months

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hey i just watched pride (amazing film) and i was just wondering if you had any lgbt history book recs? not necessarily just about that and no worries if not <3

hello!! im glad you liked it!! to be honest i dont have an awful lot of recommendations in this area, although id love to read more on this topic so if anyone else does that would be great : ^ ) ive read chelsea girls by eileen myles, which is sort of a memoir about her life but a lot on like the queer scene in new york (iirc) in the..god. 70s? 80s? god i cant quite remember sorry...ive also got pride, pop and politics by darryl w bullock on my to read list! and i know there is a book covering the real events of pride and lgsm somewhere that i havent get been able to get my hands on..i also have some academic articles i read on lgsm if youd be interested! sorry i cant be of more help : ^ (

#telegram #anon

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maxwell-grant · 2 years

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Speaking of Pulp Heroes and their rather more fraught relationship with the authorities than their 4-Color successors when I read the first couple Secret Agent "X" stories, it felt like he has a buffoonish cop nemesis solely because the writer felt the genre's tropes required him to have a buffoonish cop nemesis. So. Why do so many Pulp Heroes feel a need to have a cartoon caricature of Inspector Javert in their cast?

(Inspector Javert art by dasha-ko)

The simplest answer is that much of it can be chalked up to the importance pop culture osmosis plays in how we construct stories, especially when we're explicitly trying to reference existing tradition or building off an established mold. So much of superhero fiction's origins are built off the American pulp stock and trade, and so much of that in turn is owed to the British and French pulp fiction. And when people look at the history of detective/crime fiction history and it's origins, and the role of characters like Arsene Lupin's Ganimard, Fantomas' Juve, Jacques Closeau, Harvey Bullock, Zenigata and so on, they quite reasonably assume that, much like how tight circus costumes are grandfathered into the superhero concept, it's assumed that every Gentleman Thief protagonist needs a Ungentlemanly Cop arch-nemesis / annoyance, because that's just how the concept works. The longer answer means that we gotta talk about Inspector Javert specifically, and why he ended up becoming such an imitated touchstone for pulp fiction.

The fact that so many of them take up after Javert specifically is interesting in itself, because it's not just a result to Javert being one of the most popular mainstream examples of "bad cop" characters and thus the go-to example when you want your cops and detectives to be, at a minimum, dumb obtrusive goons who can have a change of heart and, at worst, one-note villains who usually still aren't quite bad to overshadow the more interesting villains and piss off real cops who are a million times worse than what you can usually show in fiction get in trouble with audiences for disrespecting authority. In some ways, they miss the point of Javert, but also expand on the point Victor Hugo was making with him and the novel as a whole, which was in some ways a response to what the serialized fiction tradition was like at the time, as part of Hugo's intended aim of advocating for social reform:

So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation, which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates a destiny that is divine, with human fatality; so long as the three problems of the age—the degradation of man by poverty, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the dwarfing of childhood by physical and spiritual night—are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and from a yet more extended point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, books like this cannot be useless

A lot of people miss the fact that Javert did not exist in a vacuum. He wasn't just designed to be a criticism of law enforcement and a rotten cop or whatever, he was explicitly based on Inspector Eugéne Vidocq. Claims about his real life achievements are countless and self-aggrandizing and none of them matter here except for one fact: His memoirs published in 1829 are said to be the bedrock where this entire concept of "detective fiction" started, at least in the anglo-sphere (although his effect loomed globally). Vidocq was not only the inspiration for Javert (as well as Valjean), but he was also the inspiration for Rodolphe de Gerolstein in The Mysteries of Paris, Monsieur Lecoq who would go on to inspire Holmes, and long before that he inspired Edgar Allan Poe's C.Auguste Dupin, who was an unflattering take on Vidocq, and is considered the first fictional detective.

Detective fiction existed some ways before Poe's Dupin via magazines and newspapers, as the concept of the "private detective" started taking form circa the turn of the 19th century and, as all new things tend to develop, fiction started to develop about them, largely thanks to the memoirs and autobiographies of officers like Vidocq, to the point that by the 1830s, virtually all detective fiction was about private detectives. I'm linking this thread on the Pinkertons that Jess Nevins wrote on Twitter here, in case more of you wanna dive deep into where this grody copaganda business took it's baby steps to sink it’s teeth into fiction to never let go, but the point being: For about half a century, the whole concept of the Great Detective, the central figure of detective fiction and of much of popular fiction as a whole, was based on Inspector Vidocq, and that was what Victor Hugo was responding to when he made Javert. He was based on The Super Cop, the Cop of the Century for that era, and here's another dirty secret that even most Les Mis adaptations get wrong about Javert: He IS a Super Cop. In-universe, he's the best damn cop in the whole world.

He is without vices, but upon occasion will take a pinch of snuff. His life is one of privations, isolation, self-denial, and chastity—never any amusement

He would have arrested his own father if he escaped from prison and turned in his own mother for breaking parole. And he would have done it with that sort of interior satisfaction that springs from virtue.

He is every bit the incorruptible paragon of order and devotion that people tend to attribute to characters like Jim Gordon. He’s honest to a fault to a point he insists that, if he were to be dishonest, he should not only be resigned, but also punished, should he commit any injustice on others. Other cops in the story dislike and distrust him specifically because he’s not corrupt. He’s as unrelentingly hard on himself as he is to everyone else, and it literally kills him the second he’s forced to grow a seed of conscience towards those he spent his entire life oppressing. He is, by basically every metric, a Good Cop, an unusually good cop at that, and he is a bad, rotten person, because that’s what it takes to be a good cop. He isn’t bad because he’s “one rotten apple”, he isn’t bad because he’s just too obsessed with one particular man, he is bad specifically because he’s a good cop, and he is very good at serving a terrible system, and he is very good at enduring and enforcing it’s cruelties, and the moment he is forced to question to it, when he’s no longer a “good cop”, he kills himself because that’s his way of resigning from life.

He had lost his bearings in this unexpected presence; he did not know what to do with this superior (convict); he who was not ignorant that the subordinate is bound always to yield, that he ought neither to disobey, nor to blame, nor to discuss, and that, in the presence of this superior who astonishes him too much, the inferior has no resource but resignation. But how to manage to send in his resignation to God? - Victor Hugo

It was a very damning perspective that Hugo was putting forth with this character, not just as a criticism of law enforcement, but also as an open dialogue with pretty much the entirety of the feuilleton traditions that informed the century, of the uncorruptible, inscrutable, unfailingly correct detectives stomping on wicked criminals, a condemnation somehow more timeless in 1863 than countless other takes on the story across the couple of centuries since that downplayed what exactly Hugo was getting at and why Javert was that way. Javert was a response to almost 50 years worth of how the entire concept of detective fiction worked and was seemingly supposed to work forever. So, obviously when it was time for others to twist the concept further and start focusing on the daring thieves and arch-criminals for a change, well, if these characters are supposed to stand against the law at it’s mightiest and get away with it, and you don’t quite feel like buggering Conan Doyle again, what other archetype are you gonna invoke as the allmighty, yet failed, representative of the power of The Law?

(Pictured: Inspector Zenigata, Inspector Lunge fan-art by admhire, Hank Schrader)

The Javert / Inspector has become an ubiquitous staple not just of fiction that stars gentleman thieves that, even when they are not specifically modeled after Javert, they often hit on many of the same notes that made Javert so enduring and potent of a character. It’s kind of almost a necessity, if you’re writing a story that focuses on a criminal, to see what does the law enforcement he opposes on some level looks like, and it makes for some pretty varied and interesting characters, often with some of the most interesting dynamics these stories have to offer.

Sometimes you get characters who actually do need to be serious and heroic, if only because of the sheer scale or menace of what they’re up against, and because they don’t get to win, they can be played for tragedy, characters like Inspector Juve or Hank Schrader, who is interesting as he is very much not a Javert-kind of character at first and probably never would have come close to being one, if he didn’t find himself thrust into the position of Heisenberg’s arch-nemesis and thus had to try and make himself into the extraordinary pursuer of justice, to disastrous consequences. Zenigata’s one of a kind as, somehow both a Super Cop as well as the absolute worst cop alive and only one by the thinnest thread possible (which is part of why he’s ultimately sympathetic, because his morals usually come first and he will team up with Lupin to solve bigger problems), a more deranged nutjob than the entire gang of master thieves he keeps up with. He stretches the broad strokes of the Javert archetype to such an extreme while still remaining ultimately a moral character that he winds up becoming as much of a cop as Mario is a plumber, and an indispensable part of the gag while still being very much not just a gag character.

Lunge’s on a totally opposite end of a similar scale, in that he’s a direct response to Javert as well as Holmes, demonstrating what an unflinching obsessive devotion to the law as well as a restless genial crime-solving brain does to someone who is not afforded a protagonist safety net or that sheen of fantasy most fiction affords these characters: it basically leads him to torpedo his life of everything that doesn’t get him to capture the criminal he mistakenly pursues, and it doesn’t bring him any step closer to stopping the real mastermind either, and it’s not until he owns up to his mistakes and starts to understand the story he’s in that he starts to actually help.

You can play these characters up as seriously, or as comedically, as you’d like. Sometimes they are overzealous clowns who never stood a chance and exist to make our protagonist and other villains seem cooler by comparison, and sometimes they make for such hilariously “bad” cops that they actually end up being pretty decent and even potential allies (like Chase Devineaux from Carmen Sandiego). Often, they can be a concentrated amalgam of the writer’s own feelings towards law enforcement and policing and carceral systems and whatnot, which often makes them complicated in ways even the authors don’t quite intend them to be.

A massive part of why we enjoy these kinds of stories comes in the form of transgressive fantasies where people can trick or escape or overpower or even take over and change the systems that routinely make life so difficult for us. So much of detective fiction stars police protagonists because they place readers in the shoes of getting to be the ones with the power of the jackboots for a change, but copaganda is not synonymous with detective fiction, and hasn’t been for well over a hundred years, much of it for so long has reveled in characters who are not police or police-adjacent. These characters often stand, in turn, as many things that you might need a cop in the story for, almost like a concentrated focal point.

Maybe you want to explore the ramifications of law enforcement in your fantasy world, maybe you do believe that cops can still be salvageable and you want to show what a “good one” would look like in your view, maybe you can’t think of them as anything other than distractions at best and chief enforcers of all wrong with the world at worst, or maybe you just put em in there so you can go “Oh, what would the cops do about my hero? They would hate them because they’re too cool and they would suck at stopping them, end of story, let’s move on to more interesting stuff”.

They aren’t always the most interesting characters, especially when they are just 1-to-1 Javert clones who remain neutral or mistake the point of Javert for simple-minded obsession, but they are always very telling characters, and they are not just a crucial archetype for what makes this kind of fiction work, but also a very significant touchstone of it’s inception and how far it’s come, and often, just fun to have around to make idiots of themselves, when fiction lets us get away with that. Fiction lets us get away with softening the edges of a lot of things we need outlets to confront safely (what else lets us do that?), this being one of them. Even when they suck, and they’re pretty much made to suck most of the time, I’m glad this archetype stuck around.

#replies tag #pulp fiction #pulp magazines #les mis #les miserables #javert #Lupin III #lupin the third #zenigata #arsene lupin #lupin #detective fiction

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